


(maybe i don't want) heaven.

by saltedearthsch



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Arranged Relationship, Background Relationships, Beach Holidays, Beach House, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Matchmaking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Wolf Pack, bc they're not actually supposed to get married just yet idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltedearthsch/pseuds/saltedearthsch
Summary: No one likes having family meddle in their love life. Especially not an omega who just got out of a relationship and an alpha who has been holding out for the right one.
Relationships: Biggs (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader, Biggs (Final Fantasy)/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42





	1. beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done a proper reader insert in ages, and some friends encouraged me to give it a try with this idea I've had kicking around for like over a month now. Like all my stuff, updates will probably be slow but I hope you enjoy! ^^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introduction/prologue.

Fingers fumbled as the tinny sound of  _ Mama’s Broken Heart _ disrupted the near-silence of the coffee shop. Once they found the source, a vibrantly-cased iPhone, they snatched it and smacked the answer call button.

“Mom, can I call you back?”

“I’ll be quick I promise, honey, I just wanted to ask you something about your birthday.”

[FN] sighed. They had already had several exchanges on the subject in the last month or so leading up to the day in question. First her own, then those of family who couldn’t figure out the internet enough to ask the birthday girl directly. What she could possibly want to know now was beyond her.

“Okay. I’m meeting Bal soon, what’s up?”

“ _ Oh _ , alright.” [FN] rolled her eyes at the teasing edge her mother’s voice took on. “Good, you can ask him this too, then. Should we be expecting you both for dinner? I want to make sure we have the right count for the reservation.”

“He hasn’t told me about anything else coming up.”

“Can’t you just say yes?”

“Fine,  _ for now.  _ Something might happen at work.”

A disapproving sound. “Seems to happen a lot lately.”

“It’s a busy season.”

“It can’t always be, sweetheart.”

_ “Mom.”  _ Pushing away from her seat at the table, [FN] swiped her purse and pinned her phone between her ear and shoulder as she dropped some change in the tip jar. Only once she was finally out on the sidewalk did she shift it back into her hand. “He’s just been busy! But things are going fine, as always. Besides…” Her voice took on a hopeful tone as she tried to suppress a smile. “I think he might be planning something.”

Her mother’s voice mirrored her own. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. I think he’s going to do it soon, too.” She watched the walk signal change and hurried across the intersection, waving gratefully to a car that slowed to a stop rather than rush the turn. “He’s taking me to dinner for my birthday tonight, and he’s been really quiet all week. I even saw a receipt from the jeweler on the counter the other day.”

“Well you two have been together for a few years now, it’s about time! Cutting it a bit close though.”

[FN] rolled her eyes. “We just weren’t ready.”

“Biology doesn’t care if you’re ‘ready’ or not, dear.” There was no real comeback to that one. It wasn’t without reason that their pack had their long-held tradition of marriage and mating before twenty-six. It was the prime time for them to have children before age or nature could cause any other complications. And with this being the eve of her twenty-fifth birthday, she and Balthier had really been pushing the limit of the pack’s patience.

But she didn’t mind. She had known from the moment she’d met the alpha in college that he was the one, and they had both been so busy finishing school and getting settled after, that waiting to mate officially had seemed logical. It was enough to manage heats and urges in the interim and know that at least with him by her side, she wasn’t at risk of falling prey to some other random alpha. It didn’t hurt that children had never been such an attractive idea to her either, making the whole point of the tradition rather, well, pointless.

_ “Anyway,”  _ [FN] said pointedly as she reached a street corner, “I’ll ask him tonight and let you know. Okay?”

“Be sure to tell me everything! I expect a full report and photos of the ring!”

[FN] couldn’t hide her grin this time. “You bet.”

* * *

There was no way this was reality.

Hadn’t she seen this happen in that one movie they turned into a musical? She wasn’t pretty enough to be a main character like this. If anything she was a comic relief best friend!

So why in the hell was this horrific moment of comedic irony happening to  _ her? _

[FN]’s ears were ringing, and she felt like she was standing on the edge of great precipice, the yawning abyss having suddenly opened up before her. Yet even as the wind of the chasm chilled her to the bone and swallowed her heart, Balthier sat across the table from her, calm as ever. He speared a piece of filet mignon without even looking at it, or her. Like they were having any other normal chat about weather or their days at work. Except he had just torn the notions of the future she’d shared with her mother to shreds.

Finally she found her voice. “Wh-what are you saying?” Frankly, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know. Balthier had never been one to beat around the bush, something that could make him seem cruel at times. But she wanted to hear him say it again. Perhaps even hoped, in some small desperate part of her, that she had been hallucinating and he would say something different this time.

“I’m sorry, pet,” he mumbled through the bite, swallowing thickly. The endearment that had lit her heart so easily before made her skin crawl now. “I just don’t want to keep stringing you on like this. I’m breaking up with you.” Nope, that was pretty much the exact same thing he’d said before. 

“But I--” 

He interrupted her, as he always did. “I thought I explained myself well, but I suppose I’ll repeat: I don’t want to mate with you. I’m breaking up with you because I’ve been in love with Fran for a year now and I’m tired of pretending otherwise. You’ve been a sweetheart, really, but I just don’t see us having a future together.”

“I did.” Her voice felt small and childlike to her own ears, and [FN] cursed the tears already stinging her eyes, glad they were focused on the stupid cloth napkin in her lap.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, and still didn’t sound like it. “At least now you won’t have to make up some story to your family about why we haven’t tied the knot yet.”

“Wh-what about the apartment? My stuff?” Her thoughts landed on an absurdity. “The cat?”

“You can come collect your things whenever. Just leave the key when you’re done. I’ll stay with Fran until you tell me you’ve cleared out.” He stood then, placing his napkin on the table with his half-eaten food and untouched wine. As he rounded the table, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and for a second a spark of warmth she wanted to believe he had was visible. Then it was gone, that typical cold self-assurance in place as he said, “Happy birthday, [FN]. You’re free.”

She just picked up the bottle of wine and put it to her lips. It was the only way she could avoid reaching out to choke him herself.

* * *

A week later found [FN] standing in the guest room of her family home, which had once been her own, boxes piled around her. She’d managed to get most everything from the apartment in one trip, and she still couldn’t decide if she was upset about that or not. Seeing how little of her life she had actually been able to claim for her own was strange, considering how much she’d shared with Balthier the last few years. Or maybe “borrowed from him” was more accurate.

The brush of fur around her ankles and a soft meow clue her in that Sid had gotten bored of sniffing every corner of the room, and now demanded attention. She scooped the tuxedo cat into her arms and sat down on the bed with a sigh.

What was she going to do? She had been so sure of things with Balthier until dinner the other night. The notion of the pack’s traditions hadn’t bothered her because she had been so certain that  _ he  _ would be the one, that they were just waiting for the moment to make it official. And now here she was, twenty-five, an omega without an alpha mate.

An omega who didn’t want children.

Her mother had spelled it out plainly enough:  _ “Where are you going to find a mate who wants to deal with that?” _

Balthier had always said he didn’t mind, that it was okay if she didn’t relish the idea of motherhood like most omega females. But what if he had just said that to keep her? Or was he simply okay with it because  _ he  _ didn’t want them with  _ her _ ?

Whatever the reason, she was stuck now. She was going to stay miserable in her parents’ guest room until she got her own place again, and then die a lonely unmated wretch. At least the misery would give her plenty to write about, she groused. Sid made an unappreciative noise as the last thought caused her to stop petting him. 

“Oh hush, I’m trying to mope here. Surely you understand that?”

He just stared at her expectantly and with a huff she shoved him off her onto the bed. The creature had always been a bit temperamental, but she’d found it charming. Especially since he always seemed rather affectionate anyway. He’d become her closest companion at home since the one who was  _ supposed  _ to fill that role was always gone. One of the few things in that stupid gaudy cage of an apartment she’d ever had for herself. Baltheir had hated him, but she always managed to keep the rascal in the house.

[FN] let herself collapse onto the bed, muttering sullenly to the ceiling, “Happy birthday to me, huh?”

“Sweetheart?” Her eyes flicked to the door at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Are you doing alright in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Footsteps padded closer to the door. “Okay, well, it’s almost time to leave for dinner. Will you be ready to go?”

God, she’d forgotten they still insisted on going out. There was no avoiding it now. “I just need to get changed.”

“I’ll have your father start the car, then.”

This was sure to be a disaster. At least the food would be good.

The small Korean restaurant downtown had been her favorite place to go for outings since high school. Being a bit out of the way, and a bit pricey, it was a special occasion sort of haunt, but that didn’t stop the staff who were still there from knowing who they were. There was always a table ready as long as they gave them some notice, and they smiled warmly as [FN] and her parents shuffled in from the small parking lot.

Once they were seated, [FN] didn’t even have to look at the menu to know what she was ordering, but made a point of asking for two bottles of soju first. The server seemed surprised, considering most other tables would probably work through one bottle for the whole night, but when she didn’t budge he just nodded and hurried off. To their credit, her parents didn’t question her choice either, probably knowing that it was pointless.

They got through the first round of drinks and appetizers before attempting anything beyond small talk. [FN] was grateful that her mother opted to fill her in on recent events first, giving the alcohol time to soak into her senses and take the edge off the cloak of misery that had weighed on her for the last few days. It was hard to stay upset with the sharp taste of soju on her tongue and the smell of cooking meat in the air from the tabletop grills. She nodded in the right places and even chuckled at a few funnier anecdotes about their recent additions to the backyard. And that was perhaps where she misstepped, and made her mother think it was a good chance to bring up romance again.

“So, sweetheart, we were talking,” she began, and [FN] froze with the second of the bottles angled precariously, peach soju threatening to plunge into her glass.

“So I noticed,” she said finally, and her mother cut her an unamused look. [FN] set the bottle down.

“I know you’re still healing, and probably don’t want to think about much of anything for a while… But tonight is your twenty-fifth birthday, and thanks to that cad, you no longer have a prospective mate.” 

A muscle in her jaw twitched as [FN] clenched her teeth. “Jeez mom, I really hadn’t thought about that.”

“One of us has to,” she said as if she hadn’t noticed her daughter’s sarcasm. “To that end, we did some asking about, and we might have a… solution.”

“You  _ told people?”  _

“None of the personal details, honey,” her father cut in, reaching over to pat her hand assuringly. [FN] just tugged it away and glared.

“Just spit it out.”

“The pack has moved away from this in the last decades, what with the pursuit of love becoming more important in each generation. But, not so long ago arranged mating was a common practice between families of good rapport or looking to keep their bloodlines alive. So we spoke with a few others, and we may have found someone who would be willing to consider taking you as their mate.”

Suddenly [FN] felt as sick as if she’d drank ten bottles in the last hour. They couldn’t be serious. Enter into some ordained relationship just because hers had fallen through? It had barely been two weeks since things ended between her and Balthier! 

“That seems a little extreme.”

“Apparently he’s had some trouble finding someone too. We told them about you, and they agreed to give it a try. We just need you to do the same.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you know what can happen to omegas who go unmated for too long.” It wasn’t said with an ounce of venom, but the implication was there. An omega without an alpha or beta to claim them was at high risk of a less than savory outcome - a dark side to their biology without any real cure. If she didn’t find someone on her own within the next year or so, there would be less and less options for her, and she might meet that same fate.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious about this other guy, either. Even with the looming threat of a mate-less daughter, her parents wouldn’t be so pushy about this if they didn’t think she’d be at least a tiny bit interested in him. So he had to be at least halfway decent, right? Would it really be so bad to at least give him a shot?

Was she even remotely ready to consider it?

It takes two more bottles, the first round of meat on the grill, and an entire bowl of _ duk mandu guk  _ before she’s ready to say anything else on the topic. The conversation has since moved on, her parents seeming content to let her contemplate their proposal. It’s absolutely ridiculous, she knows. And she isn’t the least bit ready to move on so fast, not really. But..

“What the hell,” she finally says as the last of the fifth bottle slides down her throat. “I’ll at least meet with the guy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Great,” her mother says with a too-sweet smile on her face (or did it just look twisted with the alcohol?). “I’ll set up the reservation for lunch on Sunday.”

* * *

This whole plan had to be the most ridiculous thing his family had ever suggested.

And  _ oh boy _ had they made plenty in the past. Despite having long since struck out on his own, they still seemed to believe they had any feet to stand on with any of his big life decisions, particularly where progeny was concerned. Something something Darklighter family legacy, probably. At least that was the general vibe he’d gotten from the five minutes his father spent stuttering over the phone until his mother cut in to tell him what was actually going on.

They had never been fond of his insistence of romance over tradition. Especially not when it left him squinting at his quickly approaching 30’s and still without an actual mate, which meant that their bloodline ended with him. There had been other ill-fated attempts to set him up in the past, but the problem with having a son who did investigation for his career meant he could see it coming a mile away. Poor prospectives hadn’t stood a chance.

Now, if he understood his mother’s roundabout reveal, they were trying again. Already he was debating how he would shut the plan down this time (hopefully without having to actually hurt the feelings of this misinformed match). 

“Just go meet with her, will you?” The Darklighter matriarch was insisting. “She seems like a good girl. I think they said she was a writer? Maybe you two could connect on that!”

Biggs was loathe to admit that this small detail caught his attention but it did. But he couldn’t let her win because of it. “Mom, I’m sorry, but  _ ‘we both like books’ _ isn’t exactly a recipe for fireworks. I’d really rather not get her hopes up.”

“She’s already agreed to meet you, so there’s nothing to be done about that. Tell her so yourself when you see her for lunch on Sunday if you’re so adamant.”

“What happened to that family brunch you were so fond of?” The first time in his life he would ever pray for a family gathering to happen. Unfortunately, his mother saw through it immediately.

A soft  _ tch  _ crackled over the line _.  _ “Cancelled, dear. This is far more important for your future -  _ our  _ future. I’ll text you the address.”

“But--” The dial tone interrupted him, and Biggs sighed, shoving his phone in his pocket. He squinted into the rain that pounded on the awning covering the school’s bus loading zone and shook his head. Maybe he needed to buy that new shirt after all.


	2. introductions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biggs and [FN] meet for the first time.

With anxious hands [FN] smoothed the light curls her mother had insisted completed her outfit for lunch with the Darklighters. God what a name - the second she’d heard it pass her mother’s lips, she thought it was fake. Apparently not.

The location their families had chosen to meet was a slightly upscale spot downtown she knew was fairly popular for brunch but had always avoided as the rustic appearance belied the prices on the menus. It was a common theme of most places in town though, so she was just glad to know they would still be serving mimosas she could get away with drinking. She doubted her parents would let her put anything harder than champagne on the tab.

Her mother had insisted she dress accordingly to “put your best foot forward,” and she had conceded on this much at least. Compared to her usual clothing, the blush pink dress with its peach florals and dainty taupe heels is an almost alien ensemble. She felt a bit childish swimming in the knee-length chiffon and bell sleeves, frankly, but there was no use arguing her way into something else at this juncture. At least she managed some small rebellion in her slightly darker makeup.

Silence cloaked her despite the chatter from her parents as they wind their way downtown, and still when they’ve parked. The closer they get to setting foot in the restaurant, the louder her clamoring anxieties over this whole ordeal grew. She began to remind herself that this was not a final choice, _she could still say no,_ the chant keeping her from falling over in her new shoes. 

Her determined fugue had so overtaken her that she almost didn’t realize they’d arrived until her mother was inquiring about their reservation with the host. She attempted to hide behind her parents as they followed the energetic boy to the table, but with a simple step her father nudged her into place between them. When they arrived, her mother finally took notice of her reticent posture, elbowing her imperceptibly as she coughed politely. 

“Sorry we’re late!” The other matriarch waved a dismissive hand as she stood, walking over to shake hands with first [FN]’s mother, then her father, Mr. Darklighter following suit. 

“Not even by a minute. We barely sat down ourselves.”

“Grand to finally meet you in person,” [FN]’s father said, then gestured to her. “This is our daughter, [FN].” 

Panic swept through her as she forced herself to glance up from the artistically weathered wood floor, and meet the eyes of her would-be suitor and his family. [FN] prayed the smile she offered wasn’t too strained on her cranberry lips as she looked first at his parents and bowed her head politely.

“Nice to meet you,” she managed, and they smiled. Once again Mrs. Darklighter moved first, grasping [FN]’s hands and giving her her own warm smile. [FN] couldn’t help feeling it seemed a touch forced on the woman’s more stern features.

“Lovely to meet you, dear. This is my husband.” 

Strong hands and warm eyes met hers this time. “Pleasure’s all ours.”

Then she looked at _him._

Immediately she could see the outward mixture of his parents in him - his mother’s angular features that framed the same warm gaze his father had aimed at her a moment ago. Though she could only see his shoulders and arms seated as he was, she could tell he was built just as strongly as his father too. _Typical alpha,_ her more cynical brain whispered even as her more primal instincts attempted to swoon. He was handsome, there was no denying it, and she caught her heart twitching just a bit when he smiled at her. It shouldn’t have made her blush so easily, and yet she could _feel_ the red enter her cheeks. 

“Introduce yourself, dear,” Mrs. Darklighter reprimanded, breaking through the confusing clamor in [FN]’s mind. The friendly smile that had tilted his lips for her shifted just slightly, but didn’t break as he reached into his pocket and leaned over to offer its contents to her.

“Biggs Darklighter. Nice to meet you.” [FN] stared at the simple square of cardstock for a moment before a quiet squeak of embarrassment eked out and she dove into her clutch for her own.

“I-I’m [FN] [LN]!” She held her own business card out for him, trying to retain her composure when he chuckled. He plucked it carefully from her and glanced over it before sitting back down, and tucking it into the same pocket he’d pulled his own from. [FN] forced herself to mirror the action, afraid of what might happen if she stayed standing, and there was certainly no way she could just leave now.

Luckily their parents seemed to take over for a short time, everyone ordering their beverages and dishes of choice while small talk was exchanged. Beneath the table, [FN] twisted her skirt in her hands, sure she should say something but completely out of her depth. She thanked every god she knew when the drinks finally came, downing her mimosa with ferocity that was definitely unbecoming if her mother’s sharp glare was any indicator. But she simply ignored her and ordered another.

“So Biggs,” she heard her mother say in the lull between appetizers and entrees, “I heard you were teaching until recently.”

To his credit, Biggs didn’t seem fazed by the obvious test in the statement. “I was. Unfortunately, the school received a funding cut recently and a few staff members had to be let go. I chose to step down since I know some of the others need the work more than I do.”

“He always has been considerate like that,” Mrs. Darklighter preened, even as Biggs rolled his eyes. 

“I have other skills I can use, some of them don’t. I just did what I could to make it easier. Besides, I still help out from time to time.” 

“[FN] has always been an advocate for volunteer work. Got plenty of notice for it in scouts and school. That’s why you considered your second major in TESOL, isn’t it, dear?”

“I didn’t do it for recognition, mother,” she groused. Oh god, it was starting, wasn’t it? That dangerous game between their families over who had achieved what in their short twenty-odd years of existing. Trepidation filled [FN] at the notion. Even if she was not eager to prove herself to them, she didn’t want them looking down on her either. Majoring in Creative Writing with a minor in Publication was not exactly prime pedestal material.

“Of course not sweetie,” her mother crooned, patting her leg. 

Mr. Darklighter was next to interject. “How about you, [FN]? What do you do for work?”

“Actually I don-” Her mother’s nails jabbed into her thigh as the other woman cut her off.

“She’s been freelancing since graduation, trying to build her portfolio. I told her she did plenty with the contest pieces she wrote during school, but she _insisted_ on doing more to prove herself. Perhaps a bit too dedicated on her part, but what can we do but support her?”

And on it went. Their parents traded accolades and acknowledgements while she and Biggs interjected on occasion to correct or humbly deny the obscene amounts of praise. It was all a show, of course, a peacocking meant to make each of them look as appealing to the other as possible. [FN] could barely stomach the delicious smoked salmon benedict that the server had placed before her what felt like a lifetime ago now. It was cold by the time she even attempted to robotically lift a bite to her lips and she just pushed it aside.

Several times, she swore she caught Biggs staring at her when their parents were prattling on. The attention shouldn’t have surprised her when that was the whole point of the affair, yet it did. He was friendly and confident, easily able to reign in the excessive exultations made on his behalf, and she was burning with envy. He was… damn it all, he was basically perfect! And while the more simple-minded parts of her instincts were screaming to get closer to him, there was another part that screamed with cynicism. _Bal had been much the same when you met,_ it argued. _You can’t trust him! Run! Run away!_

 _Shut up,_ she tried to say. But the champagne wasn’t doing nearly as good a job drowning it out as the soju had done on her birthday. It only added to the warm flush that remained firmly in place anytime Biggs glanced her way, and swirled in her nearly empty stomach with the vortex of uncertainty. God, she felt like she was going to be sick.

“Sounds like you’ve raised quite the stand-up young woman,” Mrs. Darklighter said demurely, mixing more creamer into her coffee. “I’m surprised someone else hasn’t scooped her up already - right, Biggs?”

That toxic coil was in her stomach again, tightening around it and blocking her throat. The mere memory that this whole circus was happening because of her failed relationship, of conversations they’d had with _him_ just like this, made her head spin with nausea. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t sit here and listen to them act like everything was fine. She couldn’t look this too-perfect man in the face and hear what he had to say.

“Well, I--”

Abruptly a chair scraped against the floor and the conversation stopped, all eyes turning to her, and [FN] realized she had stood up. The angry, suspicious part of her brain was crowing victory now, taking over her instincts as she pushed away from the table.

“Sweetheart, what are you--”

“I-I’m sorry!” The noise in her head was almost unbearable now, her insides squirming. “I can’t do this.” And then she was praying she didn’t look a fraction of how frantic she felt, pretending she didn’t feel his eyes on her the whole way to the door.

* * *

“She just left?” 

“Yup.”

“Damn, that’s harsh. You must have really pissed her off.” A wolfish grin. “But that’s hardly surprising.”

With surprising deftness, Jessie dodged his punch as Biggs swung it towards her arm. The brunette just grinned and picked up the shot glass at her elbow, downing it. An offended frown crossed her face and she glared at the tiny cup.

“What the hell was that?” She demanded, as if the liquid had threatened her personally. Tifa smirked as she rounded the corner to slide behind the bar with a few empty glasses.

“Absinthe,” the waitress said, laughing outright as Jessie feigned gagging again. 

“Don’t ever speak its name to me again.”

“Stop being so dramatic Jessie! It can’t be _that_ bad.” Tifa and Biggs shot the other male of their little group, a larger man named Wedge, a sympathetic look.

“Now you’ve done it,” Biggs told him, taking another pull of his own glass of whiskey. 

Jessie waved the glass threateningly. “Care to find out for yourself?”

“You know I think I’m good thanks,” Wedge answered quickly.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Tifa said, a little too loud as she cut off further debate about the “poisonous” beverage, “this isn’t about you two.” She looked at Biggs. “What did you think of her?”

“What does it matter? She clearly wasn’t into it, I’m not going to force her.” 

Tifa scoffed. “Yet you’ve been staring at your phone since you got here like a kid waiting for Christmas. You must have really liked her.”

Did he? It was hard to say considering how fast she had left yesterday. He had known from the outset that this little song and dance his mother started would probably end in failure - he just hadn’t expected it to be her who shot _him_ down. Not that he had been so confident she would fall at his feet, but frankly if an omega was going along with something like this arranged mating, how obedient must she be? 

And maybe that was what intrigued him most. She was pretty of course, and her own defiance in the face of their families had made him curious. After all, if she shared his own reluctance for this whole thing, maybe there was a chance.

To Tifa, he shrugged. “She was cute, and yeah I guess what little I did get to know sounded interesting, but—“

As he was preparing to launch into another ~~excuse~~ reason, a buzzing on the bartop sounded, and eight eyes landed on his phone. For a moment the timing was so hilariously coincidental he thought he was reading it wrong. Then he realized it was real and dove to answer it. 

“Hello?” He did his best not to sound desperate, glaring at Jessie, who had seen the caller ID and was mouthing _“Bunny?”_ at him and snickering.

Her voice was almost as timid as it had been at lunch yesterday. “Um, hi, is this Biggs Darklighter? It’s [FN].”

“That’s me.” A thought occurred to him. “Did your folks make you call me?”

“N-no!” He winced as her exclamation peaked the phone mic. She sounded embarrassed as she said, “I just… I wanted to, um…”

“If you called to apologize, you don’t have to,” he supplied, hoping to make this less painful for her (and speed along the rejection he knew was coming).

“That’s not why I called.” She sounded a little more confident now, but still hesitated.

“Then why did you?” He prompted, ignoring his friends’ curious staring.

“I was wondering… I know I don’t really deserve to ask, but would you consider going out some time?”

Biggs’ mind screeched to a halt. “Wait what?”

“You don’t have to,” she backpedaled. “Like I said, after walking out I don’t deserve to ask but, um, I thought… I thought it might be nice to try again. Just the two of us, this time.”

“Miss [LN], are you asking me out on a date?” He couldn’t help grinning as she stuttered again, clearly flustered.

“Yes - I am!” She finally managed.

“Great.” He shoved Jessie off his shoulder as the other alpha tried to listen in. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, no… I wasn’t expecting you to say yes, honestly.” 

“Bring her here!” Wedge hissed while the others nodded emphatically. He just glared.

“That’s alright,” he assured [FN]. “I’ll think of something for us, then. Alright if I text you the details?”

“That’s fine!” The excited rush of her voice made his lips twitch.

“Okay, then. Have a good night, [FN].”

“Y-you too, Biggs!”

The phone had barely left his hand when the other three pounced, surrounding him and throwing out their questions.

“Was that her?”

“Holy shit do you actually have a date?”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Can I be the best man at your wedding?”

“OKAY!” They all stuttered into silence but stared at him with wide eyes. “Yes that was her, yes I have a date and no I have no damn clue what we’re doing.”

”You didn’t answer my question,” Wedge complained.

”Don’t be an idiot,” Biggs retorted, then sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “Now I have to think of a decent first date.”

“I told you, just bring her here!” Wedge insisted, Jessie nodding along. 

“Home field advantage!” Jessie chirped.

“She’s a girl, not an enemy sports team,” Biggs snapped. But he had to admit she had a point. It had been ages since he’d had a proper date, and he did want to have a fighting chance with her. He glanced at Tifa, their unspoken voice of reason.

“It’s not a bad idea,” the darker-haired girl agreed. “A public space in a decent part of downtown where you two can talk, away from your families. Plus alcohol if either of you needs some conversation lubricant.”

Jessie snickered immaturely and this time Biggs’ punch landed straight on her tricep. “Ow!”

“I can be there to back you up if you pick one of my shifts. Could probably even bring Mel, so I can pay more attention to you guys.”

“And keep the peanut gallery under control?” Tifa giggled.

“That too.”

“Ohhh we could bust out the karaoke machine!” Wedge suggested, seeming oblivious to Biggs’ insult.

“Great idea!” Jessie agreed, clapping Wedge on the shoulder. “You guys’ll need something to set the mood, right?”

“We’re not doing that,” Tifa retorted.

“Boooooooooo!” They yelled then dissolved into laughter as she shushed them.

“If it’s really okay with you Tif, I’ll invite her to come by Friday night? You’re working then yeah?”

“Sounds good.” She glanced at him. “Gives you time to buy a new shirt.”

Biggs glanced down, frowning. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“It’s your _only_ nice one. And you’re not wearing it again on Friday.” She smirked.

“Fuck you.”

“Just text your girlfriend, tiger.”

“She’s not-“ But Tifa had already started serving up another drink, so he did as he was told.

* * *

[FN] set down her phone, still shaking with a potent mixture of nerves and excitement. Her brain was whirling about in overdrive. He said yes. They were going on a date. Just them. _Holy shit she did it!_

Her parents had given her an earful when they got home yesterday, and she had spent the rest of the night berating herself too. She knew she had been horribly disrespectful, but sitting there playing nice had felt like a lie. And yet…

And yet she wanted to get to know him more. He had seemed at least a little bit interested in the kernels of facts her parents had padded in embellishments. Plus he was cute and single and when would she have another chance? Maybe, she’d reasoned, if they could talk without the chaperons circling like vultures, things would work out.

Or maybe she’d just end up on her own again. But she tried not to focus on that.

Now she just had to spend however long filled with nervous excitement. She was going on her first date since she’d met Bal, and she just had to wait for him to tell her where and when and all that. Oh god, hopefully he didn’t try to go _too_ overboard and pick something extravagant. She’d kind of had her fill of that for a while.

As she was despairing over whether or not her wardrobe was prepared for all date possibilities or if she should get her hair done, her phone twinkled, alerting her to a text. She was surprised to see Biggs’ name splashed across the screen, and swiped to bring up the message.

Biggs: _Hey, hope I’m not waking you up._

[FN]: _I’m still awake._

Biggs: _I’ve figured out our date. Does Friday night work for you?_

[FN]: _Every night works for me._ She cringed at how desperate it sounded but hit send anyway.

Biggs: _Friend of mine works at a bar on the corner of Howell and 7th. We can meet there and chat?_

[FN]: _As long as there’s drinks too, I’m in._

Biggs: _Wow, the pleasure of my company not enough for you?_

[FN]: _You’ll just have to impress me more than the drinks._

Biggs: _Challenge accepted. See you Friday._

[FN]: _See you :)_

She threw her phone down, buried her face in her pillow, and screamed. Hopefully the lip gloss stain from her childish grin washed out later.


	3. first date.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biggs and [FN] have their first date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a wee bit longer because i had a lot of fun writing it and i didn't feel right ending it before the date was fully over. hope you enjoy!!

“You are _so_ lucky he agreed to this date!”

The words rang in her ears as she slid into the back of the Uber she had ordered to take her to 7th Heaven for her date with Biggs. Her mother had had no shortage of things to say after the stunt she pulled at lunch on Sunday - and then even more after [FN] had gotten him to agree to seeing her Friday. Things all in the vein of “How could you,” “The disrespect,” “I raised you better,” and other outraged parental exclamations. At least the woman had been too angry to spend time trying to meddle in [FN]’s preparations for tonight.

She had gone for something more in line with her usual casual wear, considering the location he’d chosen. A red skirt and thigh high boots paired with her favorite leather jacket and a simple white tank top. An ensemble she hoped would come across as still being cute enough for a date without trying _too_ hard. They had already done that song and dance at lunch together.

The bar’s location (“on the corner of Howell and 7th”) had been at least a small hand in where it got its name. Perhaps once upon a time the establishment had been a more upscale haunt, but now it was a friendly neighborhood dive bar. Decently priced drinks, billiards and the usual bar staples, pub fare and the odd specials for sporting events and holidays. The interior was slightly outdated and well-worn, but the staff were friendly and kept the spaces clean enough to get drunk and not worry about contracting a disease from the floor if you found yourself on it. That was what one of the Yelp reviews had said anyway, when [FN] had done her research on it.

Bar-hopping and late nights out drinking had not exactly been social activities she had enjoyed or engaged in while dating Balthier. He denounced them as being too unsophisticated, and what few friends she’d secured during college had faded from her life over those few years. Not working had prevented her from meeting coworkers that might cow her into any after hours outings, too, and so she’d either had quiet nights in with him, or gone with Balthier to overly ritzy house parties and dinners. It was a lifestyle she had never truly felt comfortable in, truth be told, but had sworn she would just get used to it with time.

Even so, as she stepped onto the curb outside 7th Heaven and glanced over the simple dark concrete and simple paint banner that made up the exterior, she wasn’t sure this would be for her either. It was hard to see anything through the darkened windows, also covered in posters and fliers for area events or shows, so she couldn’t really judge from out here either. _Nothing to it but to find out,_ she supposed, and pushed the door open into the space. 

The girl at the coat-check counter smiled at her and [FN] returned it quickly before following the narrow hallway to the bar proper. A string of retro-looking cylindrical lights illuminated the curved bar top along with the overhead lights shining on the selection of drinks in the wall. The few patrons seated in the booths on the opposite wall glanced up as she paused here, unsure. Biggs had only asked to meet here, but she wasn’t even sure if he was here or where they should go…

Just as she pulled her phone out to waffle over texting him again (she had already done so once on the ride over to let him know she was on her way, to which she got no reply), a girl leaned over the bar, blonde hair swishing as she grinned at [FN].

“Heya!” She gestured at the phone in [FN]’s hand. “Looking for someone?”

[FN] blinked. “Oh! Um, yes, actually.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be the guy over there, would it?” Bar-girl pointed toward a booth tucked in a corner facing the stage, and [FN] was surprised to see Biggs sitting there.

“Ah, yes! Thank you!”

“Hold on!” It was the accent curling around the exclamation that got [FN]’s attention more than the words themselves - she hadn’t noticed that before. “Take these with you. On the house.”

Two glasses of dark liquid slid across the polished wood toward her. [FN] took them and sniffed one tentatively before making a face. The girl laughed, a high-pitched but not unpleasant sound of obvious amusement.

“Not your favorite?”

[FN] smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I don’t do well with hard liquor.” 

The girl waved her hand. “Give ‘em to him then. I’ll getcha something lighter. Cider alright?”

“Perfect.” Nodding, she turned around and [FN] took that as her cue to swallow her mounting nerves and try not to trip as she made her way to the booth.

Biggs looked up as she approached, standing to take the glasses before she could set them down. She immediately felt overdressed when she took in his simpler dark jeans and green shirt. Perhaps she should have opted for something else. He didn’t give her any more chance to ponder it however, as he sipped one of the glasses and looked at her.

“Not a fan of whiskey?”

[FN] shook her head. “Not really. She said those were for you.”

“Tifa will have her head when she finds out Mel’s giving away drinks,” he chuckled, then realized she was still standing nervously next to the table. “Planning to run off again?”

“N-no!” Fighting off her embarrassment, [FN] slid onto the bench seat opposite him. For how faded the upholstery was, it was surprisingly comfortable. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi.” He set the glasses down and held his hand out to her. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”

She took it and tried not to think too hard about how it felt holding hers. “Thanks for accepting my offer, I guess.”

“Biiiiiggs,” a voice reprimanded from above them, the accent [FN] had heard earlier out in full force now, “you’re supposed to _hold_ her hand, not shake it!” As if she was burned, [FN] yanked her hand from his and hoped her face wasn’t vermillion.

“Can it, Mel. Where’s Tifa anyhow?” The girl shrugged and set down a glass in front of [FN], this one a lighter amber than the ones she gave them earlier, and smelling faintly of added citrus.

“Still out grabbing some things, I think. Manager forgot to order some stuff.” She tapped the rim of [FN]’s glass. “There’s that cider for you. Local flavor, thought you might like it.” Then with another conspiratorial grin she sashayed back to the bar.

“Do you come here often?” [FN] asked. She pouted when Biggs raised his eyebrows at her. “I mean literally! You seem to know the staff.” 

He was grinning already, clearly finding her unintentional come-on amusing. “I do, actually. That’s how I heard of the place. And they do work here, but Mel and Tifa are just friends of mine. We usually come by when they’re on shift.”

“‘We?’” She couldn’t help being curious about that.

“Me and a few friends. We go way back, used to work in the same neighborhood volunteer group before I moved.”

[FN] sipped her drink, rolling it around before she said, “You seem to do a lot of volunteer work.” She realized as she swallowed that the citrus she’d smelled was pineapple.

“I do. It might sound like bragging but it’s just a fact. I like helping people.” 

“Like the school?”

He nodded. “The school, neighborhood watch, Jane next door needs her kids watched for a few hours and the babysitter called out sick. If I can do it, I will.”

“That’s very admirable,” [FN] noted around another drink of cider.

“I guess most people see it that way. I just like being able to do something with the time given back to me.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

A chuckle that she almost would have pegged as awkward escaped him. “Getting right into the deep stuff already, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said hurriedly. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal. I was just curious.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Better to get as much out in the open now, right?”

“I guess so.”

“The people you met on Sunday, my mom and dad? They weren’t always.” 

[FN] raised her eyebrows. “You’re adopted?”

“Yup. Before you ask, I don’t know who my actual parents are, and I’ve never really bothered to find out. But that school I worked at, The Leaf House, was where I grew up before the Darklighters adopted me. It’s not just a school, it’s an orphanage, too. I just happened to come back to work as a teacher during the day.”

She mulled this over for a minute. “So you wanted to give back to the place that you came from.”

“More or less. The world sucks as it is, so if I can do a few good deeds here and there to make it better for someone else, might as well. Something I learned from Barrett, I guess.”

“Was he one of your teachers?” Biggs laughed outright at that, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong.

“No, no, he was my commanding officer. Before I went into teaching I was in the military for a few years, under this man named Barrett Wallace. The man was always hyped up, I don’t know how he did it. I thought he was crazy for the first few months. Then I realized he just really cared - about people, about our missions, about the future. It was hard _not_ to be inspired by him.

“That’s where I met Wedge, Jessie, and Tifa. They were with me in the same unit, and we were all released from service around the same time, stayed close after. I took the chance to teach, Jessie went into acting and mechanics, and Wedge does security gigs.”

“What about Barrett?” She found herself asking. Biggs shrugged.

“He stays in contact, sends letters from time to time, but he’s still in service. Only comes home on leave to see his little girl Marlene. She’s a trooper.” The mention of children brought something else to her mind - well, two things but [FN] pushed the darker of the two notions from her mind.

“I was under the impression you did teaching just because you liked kids. Isn’t that why a lot of people do it?”

“I mean, do you write because you like words?” [FN] gave him a quizzical look. “Kids are part of the job, so you sort of have to like them to survive, but I didn’t do teaching _just_ because of them. Sure I can stand them just fine, but some of them are real pieces of work. Makes me glad I’m not allowed to act like their parents.”

[FN] couldn’t help giggling at that. “I know that feeling. Sometimes I wish I was though, just so I could smack some sense or manners into them!”

“Right? Makes you wonder what their parents must be like.” They sat in silence for a short while, Biggs finishing off the first glass of whiskey while [FN] found the halfway point in her own drink.

“I am curious though,” he said and she looked up to find him studying her over the rim of his glass, “why go into writing? Not to sound like your dad, but it’s not precisely a lucrative field.”

“Neither is teaching,” [FN] pointed out, but she wasn’t offended. “Hmm… I guess it’s the same reason as you, in a way.”

“How’s that?”

“I wanted to do something to help people.” She made a study of the condensating glass in her hands. “I’m not especially brave or strong in the traditional sense, and more technical fields can be a bit too out of my depth to pursue a career in. But ever since I was little I’ve adored stories and books, sometimes more than people. So much so, I was filling my school notebooks with story ideas instead of paying attention in class for years…”

She trailed off for a moment, and Biggs let her choose her words. “I was always painfully shy, and ended up on my own a lot. Still do, sometimes. And when my parents would fight or things were going poorly with a friend, I always turned to books.” [FN] glanced up and smiled. “No one deserves to feel alone. And stories can help with that, give us that escape. So if mine can do that, even for a little while, wouldn’t I be selfish to keep them to myself?”

Leaning back, she frowned into the dim air of the bar. “So I decided to major in creative writing and publication, thinking I would fight my way into writing a book somehow. I think you can guess how that’s been going.”

“Your mom said you were freelancing,” Biggs supplied and she snorted.

“A very generous exaggeration. I’ve done a few gigs here and there over the years, but nothing so long-term. Mostly I’ve been working on a book while…” She trailed off and the frown was darker, more pronounced this time. Biggs waited for her to elaborate but she just shook her head after a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or to clear her own head. “Let’s just say it hasn’t been going well, and I wasn’t really generating income at the time.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Life happens to everyone in its own way.” He got the sense he’d said something right in the way her shoulders slumped with relief.

“You two doing alright over here?” A new voice, friendly and warm, broke through the small bubble of their booth, and [FN] looked up to find a new girl standing over their table. She was fit, with dark hair and a wide smile that was both perfect for customer service and also seemed genuine. A tray of glasses balanced on her hand, the other perched on her hip.

“Hey Tifa!” Biggs greeted her, before [FN] could ask who she was. “We’re good, thanks.”

“Glad to hear it. Mel said you two have been chatting nonstop since you got here, so thought I’d make sure you weren’t going hoarse.” 

Biggs lifted his glass. “I’m all set.”

“Don’t go downing Jack too quick, mister,” Tifa scolded, lifting a glass of water from the tray and sliding it to him. Her smile turned to [FN]. “How about you?”

“Oh, water sounds great, actually. And I don’t suppose you know what this is? Mel… said it was local?” She pointed to her own glass.

“Taste like pineapple?” [FN] nodded. “That’ll be the 2 Towns Pineapple Cider! Want me to get you another?”

“Yes please!” [FN] began reaching into her purse, but Tifa waved her off.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s already on the tab.”

“Huh?” 

Biggs shifted. “I told Tifa to put your drinks on my tab tonight. Since I invited you here.”

“You didn’t have to do that!”

“If it makes you feel better, we gave you both the first round on the house. Not every day Biggs brings new people around here.” She set another glass down next to [FN], shot them both a wink and then moved to another table.

“Sorry about her,” Biggs said, sounding embarrassed on his friend’s behalf. “Tifa means well, but she can meddle a bit.”

“She seems sweet.” [FN] bit her lip and grabbed her glass of water. “You can tell me how much I owe you later, by the way. I’ll Venmo you or something!” Biggs waved his hand.

“Nope, it’s on me tonight. I…” Contrary to his earlier confidence he seemed almost shy as he admitted, “I wanted to make sure we could chat and relax without you having to worry about the bill. So it’s on me. And I promise, you’re not going to make me go broke. So don’t worry about it, alright?”

[FN] hummed. “If you say so.”

“Here’s that cider!” Tifa swooped in, placing the new glass down and grabbing [FN]’s empty. As she was putting the glass on her tray to go back to the bar, Biggs frowned, glancing past her.

“Tifa, what are they doing over there?” The question drew [FN]’s attention to the stage she had forgotten was at the other end of the room. On it, two people were fussing with the sound system and what she realized were screen setups. She couldn’t understand why Biggs sounded so tense about it.

“Oh, we got permission from the manager to break out the karaoke set tonight.” Unlike him, she didn’t seem fazed, and [FN] could’ve sworn a smirk danced about the other girl’s lips.

“You _what?”_

At that moment, a crackle carried through the room from the speakers and the tentative voice of the man on stage filled the space. 

“Hey everyone, having a good night?” A scattered murmur of assent rose up from the other patrons, who seemed just as perplexed as them. “Great! Well, 7th Heaven is pleased to announce that at the request of a few customers, we’ve got the karaoke system up and running tonight! Feel free to put in your requests and sign-ups at the booth,” he gestured to a small stand off to the side with the sound equipment and computer, “if you’ve got a tune you’d like to carry!”

“But first,” the girl next to him chimed in, grinning with all the confidence of someone used to being in the spotlight, “my friend and I would like to open the stage with a personal favorite of ours!”

“Those idiots,” Biggs growled, burying his face in his hands. He looked very much like he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.

“You know them?”

“Remember the other two I mentioned, Wedge and Jessie?” The first notes of an upbeat piano keened over the speakers, tinny and crackling with the dated system. Before [FN] could answer, the male of the onstage pair had lifted his mic and pointed their way.

“This one goes out to our friends out there,” he shifted his gesture slightly as if he was pointing at the crowd, even as [FN]’s face flamed, “trying their hand at love!”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to hear, but Wedge’s attempt at an Elton John impression was not one of them.

_“Don’t go breaking my heart!”_

Jessie slid in next to him, leaning comically against him. _“I couldn’t if I tried!”_

Wedge made a worried face. “Oh honey if I get restless--”

Jessie patted his shoulder and assured, “Baby you’re not the kind.”

“Don’t go breaking my heart,” Wedge pleaded.

“You take the weight off of me,” Jessie sang, wiping her brow in an exaggerated motion.

“Oh honey when you knock,” Jessie mimed the motion, “when you knock on my door.”

“Oohh I gave you my key!” She pretended to drop a key into his outstretched palm.

They came together again for the chorus, belting into the mics, _“Ooh hoo! Nobody knows it!”_

“When I was down,” Wedge pointed at her.

“I was your clown,” Jessie mirrored the image as they repeated _“Ooh hoo! Nobody knows it!”_

Jessie broke away, clutching her chest dramatically. “Right from the start, I gave you my heart! Oh oh, I gave you my heart!”

Wedge looped his arm around her shoulder and Jessie did the same as they crooned,

_“So don't go breaking my heart_

_I won't go breaking your heart_

_Don't go breaking my heart.”_

As the song broke into one of its musical interludes, [FN] found herself giggling, her earlier mortification at their unexpected acknowledgement having worn off. The pair were hilarious, though it was clear Jessie was a bit more sure of her footing on a stage. Biggs had said something about her going into theater, if she remembered right. She looked over to ask him about it, and saw he was scowling into his drink.

“Don’t like Elton John?” Bigs looked up.

“You don’t think it’s horrifyingly embarrassing?”

[FN] giggled again. “Oh it absolutely is and I am so glad I’m not them right now!” She smiled. “But I also think it’s hilarious.”

He seemed to ease up after that, a smile starting to show on his face again (she decided she liked it best when he did - not that it was any of her business). “Well, that’s good. Because they’re like this _a lot._ ”

The pair had started up the next verse as she bit her lip. “You sound awfully certain I’ll be around to see it.”

Biggs’ hands had found their way into his pockets, and he studied the table now. “Well, they do tend to show up a fair bit. If you hang around me, at least.”

“I…” [FN] swallowed past her nerves and pounding heart in her throat. “I think I could handle that.”

_“Whoa, I think we can make it!”_

His smile was shining in the dim bar light, on full display at her admission. “Yeah?”

[FN] couldn’t help smiling shyly in return. “Yeah.”

He slid out of the booth and stood up, offering his hand to her. She took it, cocking her eyebrow in surprise. Instead of answering, he pulled her to her feet, and she squeaked in surprise, catching herself on his arms when her heels failed to keep up with her forward momentum.

“Easy there, Bunny,” he chuckled, and this time she could feel it vibrate in his chest. Suddenly the drinks and the warmth of the small room and him standing this close caught up with her, and she felt a flush bloom across her skin.

_“So don't misunderstand me_ _”_

“S-Sorry,” she stammered, making the mistake of looking up at him, which only made her words stick further. His grip on her arms tightened just a bit as he helped her straighten up, and her blush only deepened when that put them closer together.

_“Oh, you put the spark to the flame”_

“As long as you’re alright,” he assured her, and [FN] told herself the drop in his voice was all in her head.

“Never better.”

_“I've got your heart in my sights”_

* * *

He’d meant to ask her to dance - a silly and easy thing to shake off the nervous excitement thrilling through what felt like every fiber of his being. She had essentially agreed to _actually_ date him, though in not so exact of terms, but it was enough for now. Enough to have the baser instincts in him howling victory, and demanding he do something to get her closer. But the song was winding down now, and if her tripping into him was any indicator, she wasn’t really up for it either.

The last notes of piano were fading into the applause of the rest of the bar around them, Jessie and Wedge hamming it up as they bowed and called for someone to take the stage in their place. For just a few moments they were able to stay like that, staring at each other, unmoving, neither sure just what to do next. Then the decision was being made for them, as laughter cut through the next song coming in over the speaker, breaking the spell between them.

[FN] started as Wedge and Jessie strolled up to the booth, grinning like wolves (which Biggs supposed was rather appropriate). If they noticed the way the pair was still clinging to each other, they didn’t say anything, though Jessie’s smile turned decidedly mischievous as she looked at him.

“Having a good night, you two?”

“Jessie,” Biggs growled, and realized belatedly it actually sounded like it too. “I thought I said you two weren’t supposed to pull any of your stunts tonight.”

“Oh boo hoo!” The other woman waved his complaint away, giving the impression these exchanges happened often (they did). “It was all in good fun! Besides, we were just the opening act!”

“I’m Wedge, by the way.” [FN] glanced at the other man, then down, to see him holding his hand out. Surprisingly, she seemed almost reluctant as she pulled her hand from Biggs’ arm to shake Wedge’s. 

“[FN] [LN].” 

“Well, [FN], what did _you_ think of our performance?” 

Biggs rolled his eyes. “Do you really need to fish for compliments, Jess?”

“I want to know what your girlfriend thinks, that’s all!”

“I’m not--” [FN] started, then stopped herself, and Biggs felt that more primal part of his alpha instincts growling approval but squashed them. “I thought it was hilarious. Thank you.”

“Hah! See! _She_ liked it! So no more complaining, mister!”

Biggs sighed and subtly slipped his other arm around [FN]’s waist. When she didn’t object, he said, “Well she is awfully nice. She could just be telling you that.”

“Don’t besmirch my review like that!” She swatted at his chest and he laughed. 

“You don’t have to lie to them, Bunny, you can be honest. It was ridiculous.”

“You’re just being grumpy because you want to be mad,” she argued, sticking her tongue out. “Besides, it clearly wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, so I can’t give them a technical review.”

Jessie clutched her chest. “You wound me!”

“Hey [FN],” Wedge chimed in, and Biggs didn’t like the look on his face one bit, “do you sing at all?”

She blanched. “Wh-why do you ask?”

“You made it sound like you know your way around music. So, do you?” Even Biggs couldn’t help glancing curiously at her now. [FN] shifted anxiously under the attention.

“Maybe just a bit. My parents were musical. And I was in band.”

Jessie’s eyes lit up. “Think you could sing for us?”

 _“Guys,”_ Biggs warned.

“Sure, why not.” He looked at her in surprise and she shrugged, a small smile appearing. “I never was able to resist karaoke with my friends in college.”

“Great! Why don’t you pick out a song? We’ll grab drinks.” Jessie latched onto his other arm and tugged Biggs away toward the bar, and Wedge shuffled [FN] toward the sound booth where the DJ was taking song requests. Tifa and Mel were waiting for them, whispering to each other as Tifa held her girlfriend close by the waist. They glanced up as Jessie dragged a very reluctant Biggs over.

“Hey there lover boy!” Tifa chortled, and Mel covered her mouth with her hand as if that could disguise the giggles escaping from it.

“I hate all of you,” Biggs declared. 

“No you don’t~” Mel sang. He sighed and slid onto a stool with Jessie beside him.

“Is everything going alright?” Tifa asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Oh it’s going _great_ ,” Jessie interrupted. “When we came over, they were already canoodling.” 

“We were not,” Biggs insisted.

“You absolutely were,” Mel interrupted. “We could see you from here when you got up.”

Biggs groaned. “You better not say anything to her.”

“It was adorable,” Tifa told him, smirking. “But we won’t. Promise.”

Another song had started over the speakers, a mellow drum and synth combination. The electronic almost metronome sound behind it ticked in the back of his head as Biggs shook it, finally letting himself smile. Even if it hadn’t been exactly as he planned, he couldn’t complain about the outcome. He’d have to thank Tifa and Mel for their help in particular later.

The song moved into the second verse, and it was then that he realized it was [FN] singing. He hadn’t expected her to get on stage so soon, and swiveled on the stool to face the stage. She didn’t have the same confidence as Jessie, mostly standing still as she sang, but her voice was clear and carried the melody well enough for him to hear her.

_“The truth runs wild_

_Like the rain to the sea_

_Trying to set straight the lines that I trace to find some relief_

_This voice inside has been eatin’ at me_

_Tryin’ to embrace the picture I paint and color me free”_

It wasn’t a song he’d heard before, but he wasn’t really one for musical exploration either. Clearly [FN] knew it though, having found a little more strength as she carried on, the anxiety dropping from her posture as she sang her heart out. The song wasn’t by any stretch happy, but something beyond just the lyrics put a melancholy into him that he couldn’t place. Something had spurred her to pick the song, and he wished he knew what.

But there would be time to find out.

* * *

“Unnhhh… M’ throat huuuurts…”

“Yeah you sang a lot tonight.”

“M’ head hurts too.”

“You drank a lot too.”

“Ugh…”

Biggs caught her easily as [FN] swayed into him, her heel catching on the doorway of 7th Heaven as they stepped outside. It turned out one song was all it took to really open her up, and she had blossomed in the dim light of the bar when the applause of her performance faded. He’d had to practically fight Jessie off (though he wouldn’t admit it was a decidedly more _wolf_ side of him that screamed for the female alpha to stay away). The other girl had clearly sensed some spark of showmanship in his now-girlfriend, and had been eager to push her into more.

More songs, more drinks, more chatter - the night carried on like that for several hours, until most everyone had cleared from the bar except for them. While Biggs was certainly glad she had opened up a bit more from the start of their date, it was quickly apparent that she was approaching her limit. The group had been dishing shots almost from the moment she rejoined them at the bar, and with the high of performance to lift her inhibitions, [FN] had partaken more than her share. He was less worried about the tab he’d have to pay for than the state she would find herself in after.

He had been right to worry, he mused, as the smaller girl made another noise of discomfort and, in a surprising lack of concern, nuzzled her face into his shoulder. A soft sound, almost like a sigh of relief, gusted out of her, and she wrapped her arms around his more securely. He could shove her off him, sure, but there was no way she was walking on her own. Sending her home on her own with a cab was a recipe for disaster, too. Seeing no way around it, he sighed and wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her upright as he dug out his phone.

“‘M tired…” [FN] complained.

“I know, Bunny,” he said gently, only vaguely aware that he’d once again used the nickname. He rubbed her back. “Just a little longer, then we’ll get you to bed, alright?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed, pressing even closer and he inhaled through his nose, praying for self-control. _She doesn’t know what she’s doing_ , he reminded himself.

While they waited for the ride he’d called (he was fine to drive, but there was no way she’d make it to the car), Biggs contemplated what he had learned about the girl practically asleep on his arm. [FN] was a writer who shared his passion to do something for others, but hadn’t figured out how to do so yet. She was shy and silly, but blossomed under positive attention and praise for her talents. Once that shell was cracked, she was a live wire. All good things that he wanted to see more of. But there was a looming shadow over all of it, something she wasn’t saying. 

_“I’m surprised someone else hasn’t scooped her up already - right, Biggs?”_

His mother’s words at that lunch came back to him suddenly, and a question was forming in the back of his head. One that he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask, and definitely couldn’t right now. She was in no state to have a serious conversation. He would get her home and let her rest, and they could talk about those things another time.

Home. Biggs realized he had no idea where she even lived, and there was no way in hell he was going to try and find out from her family. And what would they say if on her first date with him he brought her home tripping on her own shoes and nearly blacked out? There was another solution, of course, but… what would _she_ say about that? Was there really any other choice?

There was no time to really wonder, their ride pulling up to the curb and rolling down to ask his name. The driver unlocked the back door and Biggs shuffled [FN] inside, sliding in next to her. The second he had them secured, she huffed and curled into him again, muttering something he only caught two words of, and he froze. 

“Bal… wait...”

“Where to, sir?” The driver caught his eye from the front seat, and Biggs tightened his arm around her shoulders as he told the man the address for his apartment.


	4. go to market.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our duo enjoys a day out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slightly longer one, but I had to take this chance to introduce some new elements. Hope you enjoy!

This is not her room. Or her house, probably.

Unlike her own box-riddled room back home, this one is sparse - a dresser with a few scattered documents, a bookcase of disorganized volumes, and the bed in which she sat. Presumably one door opened onto a closet while the other led to a bathroom or a hallway. That would be the logical assumption, at least. Her assessment of the room complete, her gaze dropped to herself as she realized just what might have happened. But aside from her boots (which she now saw by the door) and her coat (missing entirely), she seemed to still be fully dressed. So what…?

“Ow!”

A rhythmic throbbing is pounding somewhere in her head, a beat she could have sworn she heard earlier at the bar what must now be last night. Instead of being muffled as it would have been from the speakers, however, it only seemed to become louder the more she became aware of it.  _ And  _ her mouth felt like she swallowed a whole beach. She really needed water and some Tylenol, stat. Unfortunately, the rest of her body hadn’t quite figured out it was awake yet, and rather than follow her orders to stand and walk out to find what she needed, it slumped gracelessly off the bed onto the floor.

“Ugh…” She was rubbing her hip when one of the doors swung open, and she glanced up to find Biggs watching her with an expression she would call amused concern.

“[FN]! Are you okay?” He was next to her in a heartbeat, helping her up as she grumbled.

“I’m fine. I guess I’m not as awake as I thought.”

“Or more hungover than you thought.” That grin she was beginning to recognize was back. “Sorry, I should have left some water and medicine for you, but I wanted to start breakfast first.”

She perked up at that. “Breakfast? Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Alright, come on you,” he said, unable to contain his laughter at the plain excitement on her face. “Let’s get some food in you, then.”

What she realized must be Biggs’ apartment was small, but not uncomfortably so. The short walk down the hall told her that it was a simple one bedroom one bathroom affair (there was another entrance to it from the hall itself), with a sparse kitchen and what appeared to be the joint living-dining space. The last of these was so decorated in a spread of documents that she couldn’t truly tell except by process of elimination.

The smell coming from the kitchen distracted her curious mind enough, however, making her stomach rumble. When was the last time she’d eaten? Dinner before they went out, most likely. Whatever he was cooking was certainly nothing to write home about, but she didn’t think she could stomach anything more than breakfast basics right now anyway. Without waiting for an invitation, she plopped down into one of the chairs at the table and then laid her head down on the only spot free of mess.

“Hope eggs and toast is alright,” Biggs called to her, and received a grunt of assent, “I, uh, wasn’t really expecting to feed anyone else before I went shopping.”

She heard paper shuffling followed by a soft thump, and when [FN] looked up her vision was distorted through the glass of water he’d put down in front of her. Somewhere between her and the kitchen he paused, glancing over at her as if uncertain.

“I didn’t even ask but… do you want to? Stay, I mean.”

[FN] frowned. “What?”

He seemed to get almost more agitated. “You sure you don’t need to get home instead of having breakfast?” He paused. “No one’s… waiting for you?”

The heels of her palms pressed into her forehead as if they could alleviate the spike in her headache. “Fuck,” she watched surprise flick over his face at the expletive. She would’ve laughed if his questions hadn’t made her realize something very important. But something she also needed confirmation on.

“Last night,” she started, and missed how he stiffened over the stove with her eyes squeezed shut, “what happened? I remember a few shots and karaoke and… not much else.”

Biggs laughed but it sounded strained. “That about sums it up. Wedge and Jessie went shot for shot with you until last call basically. By the time we left you were barely awake.”

“Is that why you brought me here instead of home?” She heard the toast pop before he answered.

“Considering I couldn’t get more than a few words out of you, I figured it was safer.” He spread a generous amount of butter on both slices and divided eggs onto the plates. “I slept on the couch, don’t worry.”

She wasn’t sure why that disappointed her but decided not to dwell on it. Curiosity quelled, she lifted the glass to her lips, then carefully popped the two capsules into her mouth as well before she swallowed. The placebo effect of knowing the meds were in her was weak but immediate and she sighed happily. Just in time, too, as he set a plate down in front of her a moment later, then made space for himself too in an adjacent chair.

They ate mostly in silence for a while, Biggs picking up a document or two to look over while [FN] slowly dropped eggs and wheat into her stomach. It seemed to settle down by the time she was halfway done, and she felt her groggy mind clearing up a bit as well. Enough that when she realized he’d asked her a question she was able to look up and wince as she asked him to repeat it.

“I was wondering if you need to get home. You never actually answered that earlier.”

[FN] blinked. “Oh.” Then she groaned again imagining the reception her parents would give her when they learned what happened. “No. Well, I’d rather not I guess. But…” She glanced around them, then at him. “If you need to go to work or something I can get a ride back.”

“It’s Saturday. Besides, I make my own schedule. If you don’t want to go home we could always…” He trailed off and she was glad to see he was just as uncertain how to handle things in the daylight as she was. “I can take you wherever. Or we could go do something. If you want.”

“Ohhh, what time is it? The Saturday market is probably open! I haven’t been in so long but they usually have cute stalls and good food and—“ She cut herself off, looking uncertain. “Or whatever.”

The smile he gave her made the nerves shift in a different but not unpleasant direction. “That sounds great.” Then he looked her over. “I don’t suppose you stuffed a change of clothes in your purse?”

A faint blush lit her cheeks. “Um, no. It’s not l-like I was expecting anything.”

Clearing his throat, Biggs picked up his dish then her own. “Why don’t you shower while I do the dishes then? You can, um,” he looked away, “you can borrow some of my stuff while we run yours through the wash.”

“Okay,” she said, quietly.

“Towels in the bathroom, help yourself to anything.” Then he busied himself with the dishes in the sink. 

Even with the water running and the soft clink of the dishes, he could hear [FN] rustling around in her purse, then the sound of his drawers opening and closing. Inhaling through his nose, Biggs leaned over the sink and closed his eyes, ignoring the scalding water. What fragile self-control he had managed to maintain last night was dangerously close to breaking. Bringing her home had been one thing. Getting her through the door and into bed, even taking her shoes and jacket off he had held the alpha wolf at bay. But now, with her awake and leaving faint traces of her scent everywhere, his control was fraying.

He still hadn’t had the nerve to bring up that name she’d muttered last night. And while he wanted to believe she (and by extension their families, in a way) wouldn’t be so cruel as to string him along, the nerves were there. The longer he spent around her, the less he wanted to risk running out the clock. He would have to ask her at some point, for that confirmation that whoever this “Bal” was, they wouldn’t be an issue. Or at least they would be one he could work with.

There had not been a time in his life that Biggs could remember getting so immediately hung up on an omega. Hell, on  _ anyone.  _ He’d done his share of relationships, even felt something like love a few times, but it wasn’t this… visceral. Perhaps he could blame the approaching moon cycle for it, there was history to support that right? Something in the natural world that was amplifying his innate desire to chase her back into his bedroom and lock the door behind them.

Not that he would let himself even risk doing that to her. She may have flirted with him in return, but he could sense the hesitation to be close to him underneath it all. If he fucked up and tried to force his hand in some way, it was game over. He had to be careful - not just because there was a part of him that desperately wanted to claim her (no use denying that), but because if he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. If he was going to make her his, she would be his in every sense he could get.

That petulant wolf inside him could sense the logic here, even if it grumbled impatience as he turned back to the sink. With focused precision he washed the dishes and put them on the drying rack (part of the reason he’d chosen the place was the lack of dishwasher that had cheapened the rent). He had just turned back to the dining room, thinking he ought to tidy up some of his files - another conversation they’d have to have - when he heard the bathroom door open.

“Biggs?” The slight nervous waver in her voice caught his attention immediately and he turned around, any words he’d had sticking in his throat.

[FN] was leaning around the doorframe, her clothes from last night bundled in her arm and her hair tucked into the towel wrapped around her head. But that wasn’t what had his nostrils flaring and the leash he’d barely managed to put on his instincts pulled near to snapping. Somehow when he suggested she could borrow his clothes, he hadn’t really processed what that would look like, and the sight of her in one of his shirts, the hem of it falling halfway down her thighs (and drawing attention to how she’d definitely foregone pants) nearly broke him. That, and the fact that the smell of him - his shampoo and body wash, his clothing,  _ his his his  _ \- was wrapped around her like those same green threads.

_ Mine. Ours.  _ **_Mine_ ** _.  _

_ No,  _ he gritted to the snarling beast clamoring in his mind,  _ not yet. _

“Wh-what’s up?” He managed, cursing the way she’d bitten her lip at his prolonged staring.

“Do you have a belt I can borrow? I wasn’t sure where to look and I didn’t want to snoop too much but, um,” she glanced down, and he realized the flush across her skin probably wasn’t just from the hot water, “this is a little bigger than I thought it’d be.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll grab you one. Do you, uh, do you want pants? I might have some shorts you could wear.”

The flush darkened. “Thanks. I mean, yes, please.”

“I’ll…” Floundering for some way to keep a bit of distance until he had at least a little more control, he settled on, “I’ll grab them. The washer is in the hall closet with the detergent. Go ahead and throw your stuff in there. I'll be right back.”

Biggs waited until she had padded across the hall to the closet in question before he braced himself and headed for his room. That mix of their scents wafted off her skin as he passed her and he clenched his teeth against the strangled noise bubbling up in his throat. He didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath until it gusted out of him once he entered the room and nudged the door closed behind him.  _ God, get it together Darklighter! You’ve barely known each other a week! _

He finally came out with a simple brown belt and an older pair of shorts he’d dug out of his closet. [FN] was toweling her hair in the bathroom, the hum of the washer providing adequate cover of his racing pulse as he handed her the items. She smiled gratefully and he left her to change while he moved back to his room to do the same. Slowly but surely his instincts were winding down, but the less time he spent anywhere within reach of her, the better.

When he returned, [FN] was in the living room now, winding her still-damp hair into a braid. She had donned the shorts and wound the belt around the higher point of her waist, though a large section of the end was tucked under itself to hold it in place. The problem of the length of his shirt on her was solved by her having used what was likely another hair tie to pull up the hem and fashion the shirt into an almost crop top. Her gaze was fixed pensively on her shoes, which she had leaned against the couch.

It was also the first time he’d gotten to look at her, he realized. Really look at her. Without the picture perfect layers she’d worn at lunch when they met, or even her more casual attire the night before. Her face was bare, all traces of makeup removed, only her natural lashes to frame her eyes. And she still looked beautiful. 

He was getting in deep real quick.

“Something wrong?” She turned, another hair tie in her mouth as she looped the one in her hand around the tail of her braid and tugged once to make sure it was in place.

Pulling the elastic from between her teeth she shook her head. “Just not sure thigh high boots really go well with shorts. Or would be good for walking.” 

He hadn’t thought of that. Clothes were one thing but she couldn’t very well walk around with his shoes, at least not comfortably. Tifa or Jessie could probably lend her a pair, but then they’d have to admit to at least  _ something  _ about the last 12 hours. And he wasn’t about to make her do that.

“Wait a second! I’ll be right back.” Grabbing her boots, he watched [FN] disappear into the bathroom. A few moments later she opened the door again and Biggs had to hold back an embarrassingly desperate whine. She had ditched the shorts again and untied the shirt, letting it hang loose. The few inches her heels gave her drove the hem further up her legs, making the whole ensemble appear more like a short dress. It was absolute torture.

“Okay?” She asked and he realized she was watching him for confirmation. 

“Great.” Her beaming smile only compounded on his guilt at the number of inappropriate ideas that were vying for his attention. “All set?”

[FN] scooped her purse up. “Yup!”

“I left my car at 7th last night so I’ll have to go get it, but…”

“Oh don’t waste gas! The parking down there is a nightmare anyway. I’ll call us a lift.” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few times, waited, then held it up. “Alright they’ll meet us outside, let’s go!” 

* * *

By the time the driver arrived, Biggs had managed to wrangle his thoughts into a slightly more stable and manageable, if not less inappropriate, place. The possessive hollering of the alpha inside him had wound down to a low clamor, and he found that her presence and casual touches were no longer setting him off. His grip on that short leash slipped a bit when he had to watch her bend down to slide into the car first, but he managed. Then again when she pulled a compact from her purse and her lips rounded into a soft ‘O’ as she slid the same dark lipstick onto them from last night, and that stupid beast wondered how she might look other places.

The market was in full swing when he helped her out onto the curb, the street crowded with an array of booths and people alike. Food, crafts, small stages - there was a little of everything packed into the few rows of asphalt where the market was contained. The small downtown park provided a grassy backdrop for visitors to sit with food, or just to stroll through away from all the hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfare. It was completely out of his element, so Biggs glanced at [FN] for guidance. Her eyes were shining with excitement as they flicked from place to place.

“Where to first?” He prompted and she hummed.

“Let’s just start over there,” she pointed to an adjacent street, “and make our way through whatever looks good?”

“You’re the boss,” he told her, earning another smile. She started off toward one of the stands in a particularly crowded section and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Wide eyes met his and he blanched.

“S-Sorry! Just didn’t want to lose you.” He started to pull back but she held him tighter instead. 

“It’s okay.” Biggs took the hint and let her situate herself on his arm as she directed him where to go. He hoped his happiness at her choosing to take this small step wasn’t grossly obvious.

The first booth she led them to when they slipped into the stream of bodies milling about was one of handcrafted jewelry. Sterling silver (supposedly) and some simpler woven pieces, inlaid with crystals in varying shades and sizes. [FN] spent a few moments admiring them, even slipped a business card into her purse from the booth’s owner, then found her hold on his hand again to continue down the street.

They carried on in this manner until they reached the corner, then turned down the next. More stands here were filled with colorful arrays of produce, boasting locally grown and organic accolades where possible. He expected them to move a bit quicker through here but she was just as meticulous in at least glancing at each of them. A few carried samples of their wares, and Biggs tried not to stare too much when she accepted an offering of fresh peach slices, sliding one into her mouth and then scrambling when the juice slipped past her lips. Before the smiling woman at the stand could say a word he stepped in, swiped the drop from her chin with his thumb, and licked it off.

“Th-thanks.” [FN]’s voice was muffled over the roaring of blood in his ears, but he could have sworn it sounded almost as affected as he was. 

“No problem.” 

This time she didn’t take his hand, but still made sure he was keeping up as she moved to the next booth. 

When they reached the end this time, [FN] carried a bag with a carton of strawberries, another of blueberries, and a few apples. “My grandmother loves fresh fruit. Figured I might as well, since it’s been a while.”

As they started down the last street of vendors, a soft rumbling sounded. Surprised, Biggs glanced over to see her cheeks aflame again. RealIzing what must have happened, he couldn’t help laughing, especially when she pouted adorably at his ridicule.

“We’ve been out here a while and I’m sure you’re still not 100%. Let’s get lunch.”

She nodded. “I see a burger stand a little ways down, I think.”

“If that’s what you want.” 

The food truck, as it turned out to be, specialized in chicken burgers. True to the somewhat gentrified nature of the affair, they boasted organic and fairly sourced ingredients with no cruel farming practices. Biggs had to admit he was surprised how many people coming to something like the Wall Market cared about that stuff. Or maybe the self-importance of choosing this kind of food made it taste better. 

[FN] insisted on paying for both of them after he’d covered drinks the night before, and he let her, taking her earlier purchase off her hands so she could shove a few bills at the kid behind the register and tell him to keep the change. She was quiet as they waited for their food, and continued to be when he suggested they find a spot in the park to sit. 

Skirting a family with two children sprinting across the green, they settled down and she handed him his food before unwrapping her own. She took a huge bite out of it, surprising him again when she made an almost obscene sound. “ _ God  _ I love meat.”

He very pointedly chose to ignore the blatant chance at innuendo.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a protein fiend,” he teased instead.

[FN] shook her head and wiped her mouth with one of the fifty napkins she’d looted from the dispenser. “Not even that. I just like it. Maybe it’s a wolf thing?”

“Can’t say I feel quite as passionate about burgers and steak.”

“Maybe it’s just an omega thing, then!”

“Just admit you have a weird carnivorous fixation, Bunny.”

She pouted again. “I’m not weird!”

“Enchantingly unusual.”

“Now you’re just being facetious,” she accused.

He smirked. “Damn right.”

She bumped his knee with hers and scowled. “Just eat your damn burger!”

Another minute or two passed in pleasant silence as they ate, and Biggs let himself enjoy it. There was an underlying feeling of comfort sitting in this simple patch of grass together. No rush of work or life or family to take away from just being in each other’s company. Most omegas he’d encountered had some sort of calming aspect to their nature, but this was something else, that came not just from  _ her  _ but being with her.

He found he liked it quite a lot.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said when she’d finished off her own food. He watched her lean back on her hands to stare up at the clouds. “It’s been a while since I could just come out here and enjoy it.”

“Of course,” he answered easily, then paused before asking, “how long is ‘a while?’”

He could sense her hedging. “At least a few years now, really. Maybe 2? I… lost track.”

“Can I ask why?”

That lip bite was back. “We didn’t get out much.”

“You and Bal?” She winced and he immediately regretted bringing the name up.

“How did you…?”

Biggs sighed. “Last night when I was taking you home, you were muttering to yourself. You called out to someone named Bal.” He saw her fingers picking nervously at the grass. “[FN], who is he?”

Her silence stretched on so long he thought maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe he’d overstepped. But the curiosity was killing him, and they might as well get it out of the way now.

“Balthier - that’s his actual name - was, or I suppose  _ is  _ an alpha I dated for several years. We were together from my sophomore year in college… until a few weeks ago.”

Biggs felt his stomach drop. The final pieces clicked into place with her words and suddenly a lot more things made sense. Her being single, her hesitation, the match. She didn’t have to explain things in full for him to read between the lines, and he felt a stinging bitterness towards this Balthier for so clearly disregarding someone he was supposed to have loved.  _ Especially  _ her.

“I’m sorry [FN],” he said quietly. She shook her head.

“Don’t be. Though I’m sorry for not clarifying. It’s been… hard to talk about.”

Biggs offered her a teasing grin as he picked up her hand from the lawn and placed a quick kiss on the back of it before he could change his mind. “I’m just glad to know he’s not someone I should be competing with.”

Her cheeks were tinged with pink as she muttered, “Not much competition anyway.”

* * *

“Balthier.”

A bored wave met her attempt to get his attention and Fran rolled her eyes. She didn’t often get to use the several inches she had on him to her advantage, but did so now as she leaned over and plucked the document he was pretending to read from his hand. She ignored his petulant look to instead place his phone in front of him.

“You have a notification.” He stared at her. “It’s her.”

Fran had rarely seen him move so quickly as she did when he snatched up the device. A few taps and it was unlocked, his eyes skimming the notifications. One of them was for a Find My Phone app that she knew belonged to his ex. Poor girl hadn’t had the sense to turn it off - or probably just didn’t know it was on. 

“She’s still not back home - what the hell is she doing?” Balthier growled. Fran circled the marble-top island to look over his shoulder. The little green dot indicating the omega in question was somewhere downtown, nestled among a few intersecting streets around the park. Lacking her lover’s blinding ire, she realized the answer before he did.

“It’s Saturday isn’t it?” Rather than hand him the answer, she gave him the prompt and watched his eyes - and ego - light.

“The Wall Market! Of course! She always did like that quaint little show.” He frowned. “I never would have expected her to go somewhere like that on her own, though.”

“Perhaps her family went with her?” 

Balthier hummed but shook his head. “I doubt it.”

“Wait to see where she goes next. It might be nothing.” Kissing his cheek, Fran wrapped an arm around his waist. “Now, I believe you were supposed to show me how the new mattress feels.”

His expression shifted, and he tilted his head to kiss her properly, smirking when she sighed against him. “Oh yes. I think you’ll find it  _ very  _ comfortable.”

* * *

He gathered their trash and stood, reaching down to pull her up. Much like the night before, however, her heels did her no favors with uneven grass, and she tripped into him as she stood. He let her catch herself on his chest, too stunned by the sudden influx of  _ her  _ in his nose and his mouth and his brain to do much more than lock an arm around her waist. 

_ For balance,  _ he told himself.

_ Liar,  _ the wolf howled.

“S-Sorry,” she said, her laugh reedy and anxious, but she didn’t move her hands from where they pressed against him.”I really need to stop doing that, huh?”

“I don’t mind,” he assured her stupidly, and to his relief she didn’t point it out. They stayed there, staring at each other, Biggs’ thoughts a noisy mess, until suddenly she was pulling away.

“We should finish up, probably! Still a few things left to see and I don’t want these to spoil!” He eyed the bags she held and nodded, swallowing against his suddenly dry throat.

“Right.” 

The remaining stalls were uneventful after that. Biggs stopped once to pick out a small bouquet of brightly colored, clustered petals. Glancing at them, vague memories of conversations over other blooms resurfaced, providing the meanings for the plants and their colors. After handing over a five to the vendor, he traded the flowers to [FN] and took the bags. She had been quieter after their chat over lunch, but grinned at the blooms, murmuring her thanks as she leaned into him.

They reached the end of the street and he realized they were only a few blocks from where he had parked last night. He turned back and caught the briefest second where a slightly pained expression crossed [FN]’s face. She saw him staring and winced.

“I think I was right about not wearing these shoes this morning,” she confessed. 

“The spot I parked is a few blocks up, but if you can’t keep going we can just take a ride over. Don’t push yourself.”

She contemplated this before making a face. “I’ll be fine! Let’s go.”

He shook his head. “Hand me your stuff.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to carry you. If you walk too far you’ll get blisters or at the very least regret it tomorrow. Now, hand them over.” Her stubborn glare was adorable but faded quickly, and with a sigh she let him loop the handles of her purchases over his wrists. Then he knelt low enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck from behind, granting him a face full of flowers, but he was grateful for their scent. It helped to mask the way hers filled his senses as he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and stood. She let out a soft squeak in his ear as they adjusted slightly, and he smiled where she couldn’t see.

[FN] was quiet again as she let him carry her the few blocks to a small corner parking lot near the bar. He almost wondered if she’d fallen asleep with her face tucked against his shoulder, and the idea filled him with the same warmth he’d felt during lunch. But when he slid his hands further up, telling himself he was adjusting his hold on her and not just enjoying how soft her skin was beneath his touch, her breath hitched, gusting against his neck. 

“Almost there,” he told her, and she hummed, a sound he felt against his back more than actually heard. If his own heart wasn’t thrumming he wondered if he might hear hers pounding too.

They finally reached the nondescript black sedan and Biggs realized he didn’t have his keys out. The increasingly selfish part of him didn’t want to let her down just yet, but they wouldn’t get anywhere without them…

“Can you reach into my jacket and grab my keys?” He is being stupid and he knows it, and if her scoff is any indicator she knows it too.

“What?”

“I can’t unlock the car without them, Bunny.”

With a sigh, she pressed further against him to lean over and place the flowers on the roof. Then, with her now free hand she reached down into his pocket. “They’re not in here.”

“Other side, sorry.”

She scoffed in his ear and wrapped one arm around him for balance as she reached into the other pocket. This time she came away with a key ring that she held out to him. Lifting them from her, he unlocked the passenger door and grudgingly released her legs so she could slide to the ground.

“Manual locks? In this day and age?” 

Biggs rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t let me down yet, even with her shortcomings. If you’re done sassing my ride, let’s get back.”

She giggled but slid in the door he held open for her, and after closing it he sighed, knowing he’d be smelling her in it for the next week. 

* * *

_ Ping. _

The sound of a notification interrupted the televised chef’s lecture over the proper cooking time of a still-raw fish, and Fran’s eyes flicked to the coffee table. The screen of Balthier’s phone was illuminated with a notification, and she only managed to see the name of the app before the screen went dark again.

“She’s moving.” 

It was all Fran had to say before he appeared from the sideboard, bottle of wine in hand, and swapped the drink for the device. Balthier grumbled and tapped a few buttons to view the location history of [FN]’s dot. Home, the bar, an unknown address, the market, and now... Bal fixed on the map now as she moved, and without a word, Fran pushed a pen and a pad of paper to him.

So much for their lazy Saturday in.

When the dot stopped, a deep growl sounded in Balthier’s throat and he dove for the pen, scribbling madly. Some would have been unsettled by the display, but Fran simply stood and poured herself a glass of the wine he’d abandoned, and turned up the tv. 

When the offending address was inscribed on the pad, Balthier swapped to his messages and snapped a photo of it. The instructions that accompanied the photo consisted of two words, but that was all he would need.

_ Find them. _


	5. after.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> biggs and [FN] air their clean and dirty laundry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter in between chapter before we get the ball rolling on some other stuff!

The apartment was silent when they entered, and Biggs assumed the washer had probably stopped some time ago while they were out. Just behind him, [FN] leaned on the doorframe and tugged her shoes off, a happy sigh billowing out as her feet touched the carpet. Leaning around him, she glanced down the hall.

“I should’ve had us wait until I put them in the dryer. Sorry.”

Biggs shook his head. “It’s fine. Are you okay to stay until they’re done?”

“Mhm! So long as I’m not in the way.” 

“Impossible. I’ll put these in the fridge if you want to start the dryer.”

She handed him the bags and they parted ways in the kitchen. “Do you have dryer sheets?”

“Should be on the shelf.” He tucked the selections of fruit into the fridge and then found a glass in the cupboard. Setting it on the table and adding a few inches of water, he set the bouquet inside it. Probably overkill, but whatever. 

“Hey Biggs?” The sound of his name in her voice made another subconscious smile surface. Shaking it off, he found her in the hall at the dryer. She was frowning at the dial for the timer. “Any idea how long I should set it for? This one’s a little different than mine.”

“And worse, probably. I usually have to put things in longer than you’d think. Maybe an hour?” 

She sighed. “Alright.” Then gave the dial a twist and set it to 60 minutes.

“Sorry - another charm point of the place and its generous discount on rent,” he chuckled. [FN] patted his arm.

“No problem. Just means I’ll be in your hair a little longer.”

Unbidden, he reached out and took her hand again, leading her back to the living room. “Sounds fine to me. We can watch a movie or something, if you want. Kick back and relax after all that walking around.” He let himself fall onto the couch, grabbing the remote from the well-loved ottoman that served as both footrest and coffee table. 

[FN] sat next to him with slightly more grace, leaving a few inches between them as if she wasn’t sure where to be. “I’d love that.”

Leaving the choice to her, he handed her the remote while he checked his emails. A few updated requests from potential clients, a few follow-ups on leads he’d been pursuing, and most notably an email from Folia. He had been away from her and the school most of the week, chasing down a few other means of information, asking her to keep him posted. Her message was mostly nothing, though he appreciated her attention to detail. This case was important to both of them after all, and any slight hint would be a huge help.

He was making some notes in his phone (he’d have to transfer them later), when he felt something soft against his side. Glancing down, he realized [FN] had apparently overcome her earlier inhibitions and was now leaning into him, her legs curled up underneath her and head against his chest as she stared at the screen. She was clearly engrossed as the couple on screen murmured to each other, the dim light of the living room only broken by that coming through the stained glass windows on screen. Most of her face was lost in the flickering shadows, but he could see some of the faded lipstick framing her mouth as it hung open in concentration.

Despite all his best efforts, she had been testing his limits all day. Now, without the looming threat of the general public to keep him on his toes, the beast which had been pacing within paused and almost seemed to smile. This was  _ his  _ territory now, and she was still wrapped in  _ his  _ clothes, on his couch. His control slipped an inch as he inhaled sharply, and he felt his arm drop around her waist, holding her that much closer. For a moment he only prayed she wouldn’t be upset, but she surprised him by shifting so she was pressed even further into him. All it would take was a slight shift, and she would be practically in his lap.

The conversation on screen had ended, and the couple were now locked in an intimate kiss for a few moments, and Biggs decided he’d had enough. They pulled apart and he took the chance to reach down and tug her hips so she was straddling his thigh, wide eyes now at level with his. [FN] stared at him, breathing rapidly and tongue darting out to wet her lips. He followed the motion hungrily, all pretense of restraint out the window. One hand settled on her waist, the other on the back of her neck and he managed one last pull to hold himself at bay.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He knew the second he kissed her that it was over. All bets were off. There was no way he was going to be able to erase the way she tasted vaguely of fruit and mint simultaneously, or the soft sound she made when he tugged her closer. She was going to be his, or he would become the pack outcast, forever wishing he never knew what it was like to be close to her. A small part of him was startled by the strength of these feelings, but it was quickly washed out by the need to press his tongue past her lips and taste the small whimper that escaped her for himself.

It was the light smack of her hand on his shoulder that forced him to pull away, reluctantly recalling the basic need for oxygen. He seceded only a few inches, keeping his forehead pressed to hers as he pulled that critical element into his lungs and she did the same. Murmurs of bar song and chatter came from the screen but he ignored them to stare at the way her lips were all but wiped of their earlier tint, rubbing the back of his hand against his own mouth and feeling strangely proud of the pigment that he glimpsed there. Then her face disappeared from view, hidden in his shoulder and a breathless laugh escaped him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, taking the words from his mouth.

He frowned. “Why?”

“I… I can’t go further. I have to stop.” Logic and reason were beginning to return to him as the wolf accepted this brief moment of satiation, and he moved one hand to her back, tracing a soothing motion there.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry if I surprised you.” 

Her laugh was slightly breathless too, and a touch hysterical. “Don’t be sorry. I… I’d been thinking about it all day.”

There was no helping the slightly ragged way he echoed the sentiment as he murmured, “Me too.”

[FN] didn’t move right away, and he moved his arms to less intimate places, letting her settle in against him to focus on the tv again. He tucked her into place under his chin and let himself enjoy the simple joy of having her close after craving it all day. While he had surprised himself as much as her, and worried he may have pushed her too far, he couldn’t deny he was pleased with how things turned out. He’d given her a chance to run, to push him away, but she stayed, and if he could shift right now, he would probably resemble an overgrown puppy more than a proper alpha wolf.

It felt like an age and also too soon when the dryer buzzed in the hall, nearly lost in the opening notes of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ “Red Right Hand” when the next episode started. Sighing with what he only dared to hope was reluctance, [FN] pushed herself away from him and slid off his lap to pad across the apartment to the offending appliance. He heard the door open as he huffed a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and let his head drop against the back of the couch. His Bunny was more dangerous than she let on.

_ (When did she become his anything?) _

“All done!” She called, and he fumbled for the remote to pause her show. As he stood, she reappeared with her clothes in her arms again, this time more nicely folded, presumably for travel. An uncertain look had made itself at home on her face, as if she knew what was expected of her but wasn’t sure she wanted to make it real.

He decided to spare her the debate. “Should I take you home now?”

A surreptitious glance at the kitchen clock. “I guess so. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I left home now, and I only texted to let my parents know I was alive. I’m sure they’re worried.” 

“Don’t sound so excited,” he taunted, and she grumbled, moving past him to her purse.

“Can you blame me? I have to deal with all the questions about spending an entire day with my…” She paused, and though he couldn’t see it he had a feeling she was biting her lip hesitantly.

He leaned against the back of the couch to shove his hands in his pockets and hide his own nerves. “How do you want to do this?” No sense beating around the bush. “Do you want us to be official now? Or wait until things… progress?” Awful.

She was picking at the hem of his shirt, which she still hadn’t changed out of. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Whatever you want is fine with me.” Seeing her fidget, Biggs crossed the room and gently took her hand in his.

“[FN],” her cheeks dusted red but she glanced up at him from under her lashes, “would you do me the honor of officially being my girlfriend? Even though our parents sorta forced us into it?”

A laugh bubbled out of her at that. “I prefer to think that they helped us meet, and we decided to try it out ourselves,” she said demurely, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I accept.”

Before she could stop him, he looped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up, forcing her to brace herself against him as he spun her in a circle. “Biggs! Stop it!”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound like it at all, especially not with the absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. “Let a guy be happy with his  _ girlfriend  _ won’t you?”

His emphasis on the title seemed to embarrass her slightly, and he almost wanted to do it more, but refrained. “Would my  _ boyfriend  _ please take me home now? He’s being an insufferable dork.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Is that what your reflection tells you?”

“Wow, suddenly she’s got spunk.”

“I always have, I’m just selective with it.” She made a muffled sound of protest as he stole another kiss, effectively shutting her up. Sighing, he pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin.

“What if you just stayed here?”

[FN] snorted. “Biggs, all my stuff is at home.”

“We can buy you toiletries. And you seem to pull off my clothes just fine.”

Her arms wound around his waist as she hugged him. “One step at a time, lover boy.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Alright, then. Let’s get you home before your parents have me arrested.”

* * *

From the moment she walked into the kitchen, they set upon her like vultures.

[FN] had hoped the fact that they weren’t wearing the rug in front of the door meant she was safe. Unfortunately they had only lulled her into false security and instead pounced as she was finally putting Biggs’ flowers in the vase. The bright arrangement brought a smile to her lips at the memories it carried of the last twenty-four hours.

“So it went well, then?”

Fingers slipped on the glass of the vase she’d chosen as she whirled on her parents. Her mother was smirking like a pleased cat while her father wore an encouraging smile behind his wife. He gave [FN] a thumbs up that only made her groan and turn away, very carefully setting her gift on the counter.

“Yes,” she offered tersely. This was the exact encounter she’d attempted to avoid in dragging him to the Market. Along with it being a way to spend more time with him when she’d found herself reluctant to leave. 

There was no way she couldn’t feel it as they looked her over, still dressed in his clothes and smelling of his shampoo. “Are you going to see him again?”

The idea of more time with Biggs sparked a flurry of butterflies through her and she couldn’t help a small smile as a million little scenarios followed after. Her mother’s giggle shattered some inane daydream of an outing at the park and she scowled. 

She would give them just enough of a bite to leave her alone. “That’s how dating your boyfriend works, isn’t it? I wasn’t single  _ that  _ long, mother.”

Offering the woman a smug smile at the victory on her face, she patted her dad on the shoulder and scurried to her room.

In the quiet sanctuary she could  _ finally _ let her tightly coiled emotions loose. Dizziness of them all hit her almost instantly and she leaned against the door as she slumped to the ground. Holy shit.  _ Holy shit!  _ In the span of a day she had gone from vague aspirations of friendship to nearly making out on his couch. He’d called her his girlfriend.  _ She’d called him her boyfriend.  _ Oh god, what if he was just waiting until he could mate her?

_ Would that be so bad?  _ Part of her wondered. After all that was kind of the point, in the end. And there was no denying she was… drawn to him. It sounded ridiculous, but from that first silly moment he’d held her at the bar, her instincts had started clamoring for his attention. It had only gotten worse when she had woken up surrounded by his smell, used his shower, and worn his clothes all day. Even now as she pulled her knees to her chest, she could faintly smell that same detergent she’d used to wash her clothes. 

She couldn’t remember ever feeling this with Balthier. Of course the standard natural attraction between alphas and omegas had been there. A faint whisper of craving but it was there. But with Biggs it had been a loud clamor in her mind that had almost drowned out sense when he kissed her on the couch. Maybe she was just so lonely that even this simple affection made her desperately attached. With how starved she had been for it before they met, it would hardly be surprising.

Another sharp inhale and [FN] sighed, the faint scents still clinging to her and the shirt filling her nose. They would have to work out what exactly they both wanted from this but… she didn’t mind. Perhaps a little adventure was what she needed in her life. Something told her she could trust him with that too.

Standing, she stretched and glanced at her phone. It was getting late again already, and the long day made her body feel heavy. Collapsing into bed sounded lovely, so she stripped her jacket and tossed her purse somewhere nearby. 

Hesitation flooded her for only a moment as she prepared to finally take the stolen shirt off for bed. It was over quickly though, and with a conspiratorial smile to no one at all, she slid beneath the sheets and unlocked her phone. That same delighted nervousness overcame her again, and she only managed a single text before she rolled over and buried her face into her pillow again like a teenage girl, clutching it to her.

_ Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun. _

_ See you soon? _

God he probably thought she was so lame.

* * *

_ She is just too cute. _

Knowing he must be grinning like an idiot, Biggs shoved his phone into his pocket. He’d reread [FN]’s text probably a hundred times now before finally replying _(Me too. Just tell me_ when), and even with all his military and investigative experience, still wondered how such a simple message could make him this happy.

“Are you finally going to tell us what you keep smiling at dear?” His adoptive mother’s tone feigned indifference but he knew better. They hadn’t asked him outright but he could practically sense the curiosity eating them up. Letting them stew had been a delight.

He loved his parents, but god were they nosy sometimes.

“Just a funny joke Jessie sent me,” he said, knowing full well they’d see through it. True to form his mom scowled over the fork spearing her eggs benedict. 

“Now son, there’s no need to be facetious,” his father reprimanded, but it was half-hearted. Jonathan Darklighter was a strong believer in respect and honesty, sure, but even he was dying to hear the details of the weekend. 

Biggs sighed and pushed his own toast aside. “It was a text from her about yesterday. Just saying thank you, nothing to get worked up over.”

McKenzie’s face brightened instantly, the usual firm composure melted in the wake of this news. “You must have shown her a good time. Excellent!”

“We just went to the Wall Market, tooled around. Nothing special.”

She was staring at him again. “You picked her up for a second date the next day?”

Biggs realized his mistake too late. Well there was no getting out of this. “Actually, she stayed the night after we left 7th.”

“That’s wonderful! I trust you two were safe? It’s far too early to be mating for real.”

“Mom!” He hissed, jabbing his butter knife at her. “She just slept over! And  _ I  _ took the couch.”

His father laughed as Biggs glowered at them, thoroughly mortified by the turn in conversation. “I’m sure you were a perfect gentleman,” he assured his son when he’d stopped chuckling. “You kids going to keep seeing each other?”

Now he didn’t bother hiding his smile. “Yeah. She asked to make it official so she could tell her folks too.”

“If you two ever need anything let us know,” his mother tutted. “You haven’t had a steady companion in a while so I know you aren’t ready to support her.”

“What does that have to do with—“

His dad patted him on the shoulder. “Just keep us updated alright?”

Biggs sighed. “Fine.”

He really needed an excuse to stop coming to family brunch.


	6. simple.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [FN] and biggs enjoy a slice of early onset domestic bliss.  
> more pieces begin to move behind the scenes.

“Thank you so much again for the generous donations!” The hallway echoed the woman’s words back, accompanied only by her footsteps, as she escorted her companion down the hall. “Our institution wouldn’t be standing without your boss’ contributions.”

“It’s his pleasure to help support such an outstanding operation.” A tight professional smile greeted her warm one. The House was exactly as he had expected - well-loved and a little rundown. Privately but underfunded if the reports were to be believed. Perfect. “Children are worth supporting.”

“Well,” the House Mother babbled as they exited into a courtyard between the designated school building and the children’s dormitory, “he must be a kind soul, then.”

“He certainly enjoys philanthropy.” They stopped to watch a pair of children chase each other across the yard, quiet for several moments before he turned to her, absentmindedly tugging his gloves back into place. “If he’s to become more… personally invested, however, he wishes to get to know you and your staff better. They must be remarkable people like yourself.”

The woman smiled bashfully before the compliment. _Too easy._ “They’re wonderful people, we’re quite lucky to have them. It’s too bad we just had to cut down on our numbers.” She shook her head. “But we still have plenty of capable hands, don’t you or yours worry!”

“I don’t suppose you have some kind of personnel files we could look over? For the sake of transparency?” 

A frown creased her forehead. “I can introduce you to them myself if you’d like. Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Some _one_ , actually. Does Biggs Darklighter still work here?”

* * *

Life returned to an oddly normal pace for the next week or so after her weekend with Biggs, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Even with the establishing of their new relationship that night in his apartment, [FN] still wasn’t sure how to act. This honeymoon high was something she wasn’t used to, and suddenly it was like she really hadn’t dated before. Aside from sporadic pleasantries, she’d been too nervous to push further.

Instead she busied herself with the final unpacking of her things, and tried to immerse herself in a few freelance projects she picked up. The busywork helped to keep her focused, but by the time a week had passed and her deadlines had come and gone, she found herself feeling lost again.

Though she had opted to actually wash the damn thing after she came home, the shirt she’d ~~stolen~~ borrowed from Biggs had lived among her things since. The flowers had begun wilting with the influx of summer heat, but the fabric served as a reminder of that night.

Was it stupid to miss someone you had essentially just met? After all, in truth she barely knew him. Yet here she was, sweating in the early August heat, and thinking about how nice it would be with some company. Well, very specific company.

Her eyes dropped to her phone in its spot next to her mouse on the desk. With an unusual flush of confidence, she grabbed it and pulled him up in her contacts. For a moment she considered calling but chickened out and tapped the “Message” icon instead. 

_Hey! Are you doing anything?_ She cringed at herself and then agonized for several minutes before her phone chirped with his reply.

_Biggs: I was about to head out._

Ignoring her brain’s anxious clamoring of “TOLD YOU SO” she forced her fingers to type.

_[FN]: Oh! Sorry forgot you might be busy._

_Biggs: Just grocery shopping._

Then:

_Wanna come with?_

[FN] was already grabbing her coat and tugging on her shoes when she realized she should probably reply.

_Where should I meet you?_

* * *

The grocery store in question was a corner location downtown not far from his apartment. Rather than contend with parking in the lower level’s garage, Biggs found space a few blocks down. She had insisted (mostly to be polite) that she could drive herself, but he had won out. Secretly she was glad, slipping her hand into his as they walked.

She could practically see his tail wagging at the simple action.

For a Thursday afternoon the store was rather busy, families and individuals milling about in equal measure. It was impossible to miss the way [FN]’s expression twisted as two children ran past them into the fruit section. The frown disappeared in an instant however as she turned to Biggs, cocking her eyebrow.

“Did you have a list of what you need?”

He shrugged. “I usually just wing it unless there’s something I really need.”

A pained expression flitted across her face. “Alright then. Guess there’s no harm in wandering around a bit.”

With a chuckle he swiped a basket and started off toward one of the aisles, leaving her to scurry after him. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised by the things he started pulling off the shelves or from the freezers. After all, before Balthier she had consumed a similar diet consisting exclusively of microwaveable, instant, or frozen meals. But that was in college, when she had spent most other hours consumed by coursework that left little time for prep and cooking. Watching him shop was like seeing every modern media bachelor stereotype come to life in a horrifying amalgamation.

When they’d passed through the meats without stopping and instead came to contemplate flavors of instant noodles, the last thread of her fraying sanity snapped. Biggs glanced at her to see a scowl on her face as she slapped his hand away from the shelf. Sure, she could probably stand to be a bit more healthy with her own meal choices, but this was another level! Before he could question what had her so bothered, she snatched the basket from him and stalked back down the aisle.

“Hey!” His protest fell on deaf ears as she sorted through the contents and dumped a large portion of it unceremoniously onto a nearly empty shelf of what the labels said had been tortillas. Startled, he took a step back as she jabbed a finger at him.

“Just because you used to be a bachelor doesn’t mean you have to live like one!” [FN] reprimanded. Her authoritative tone left no room for argument, so he just nodded and fell into step beside her as she led him elsewhere.

Within a few minutes, the basket was filled with a mix of frozen and fresh vegetables, a selection of meats, pasta fixings, and other things he wouldn’t have normally selected himself. She seemed extremely pleased with herself as she headed to the register and though it had taken him by surprise, he couldn’t help smiling. The whole situation was grossly and endearingly domestic, but he got the feeling if he said something, it would be over in a second.

Bags secured and stuffed with their purchases (albeit on Biggs’ card), her hand found his again as they walked back. She was humming faintly and only stopped when he’d gotten behind the wheel and started pulling her address up on his phone.

“No way,” she said, crossing her arms in a defiant way that was not at all intimidating. “I don’t trust you to actually put all that together into something edible. I’m coming over.”

“I did make breakfast for you the other week you know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Just take us back to your place, you goof.”

As he had earlier, he listened, tracing the familiar route back to his complex rather than her house. [FN] hopped out the second he’d put the brake on, loading the bags onto her arms and into her hands, and then looking at him expectantly. Slamming the locks, he took the hint and hurried past her to lead the way upstairs.

Once the door closed, she dropped the bags and started stashing their spoils around the kitchen, setting a few items aside. As she set up, she could feel Biggs watching her from the doorway uncertainly and turned around, gesturing at him with a box of pasta. “You find something to occupy yourself. I’ll let you know when dinner is done.”

“You know you don’t have to do this,” he tried, but she offered him her happiest and softest smile. It was like watching ice cream melt in the sun.

“I know,” she said, knowing she’d already won and wanting to assure him anyway, “but I want to.”

She watched as he settled at the dining table, a stack of files and a laptop she hadn’t seen squeezed onto the wood in front of him, then turned back to her ingredients scattered across the counter. Pulling the cutting board over, [FN] fell into the rhythm of cooking while he worked. Casual chatter bounced between them as she stirred, mixed, and chopped, and a new kind of warmth filled her. This was easy, almost natural. And if she was honest it kind of scared her, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate it.

Biggs looked up as she set the plate of food on top of a stack of documents, the pride at her creation practically visible. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek as she pulled back, laughing when she flushed and swatted his arm. Though her momentary embarrassment distracted her, she still managed to glimpse the contents of his screen and frowned.

“What’s that?” Wide eyes glanced at the webpage and word document dividing the screen, then back at her. [FN] bit her lip as her stomach dropped - clearly, she wasn’t supposed to see this.

She watched as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Work stuff. I…” He looked up at her again, and she nodded for him to continue. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it, but there hasn’t been a good time, and it’s kinda complicated and--”

“Just spit it out,” she sighed, leaning against the edge of the table.

“You know how you said your mom exaggerated your career at lunch?” A nod. “Well, mine did too.”

“Okay,” [FN] said slowly. “So…?”

“So I did quit working at The Leaf House, but that was a few years back now. After I left, I took up private investigation.” He grimaced and almost seemed to curl in on himself as he awaited her judgement.

“Oh. That’s it?”

He looked shocked at her glib reply. “You’re not mad?”

“Biggs, I’ve known you for almost a month at best. Of course we don’t know everything about each other yet.” Fingers picked at a loose string in her jeans. “It’s not what I expected, but it does explain a lot.”

He reached for her hand. “I’m still sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just… It’s stupid but even without my mom nagging me to act impressive, I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

She twined their fingers and snorted. “If either of us was going to be disappointed, I should think it would be you.”

It was his turn to frown at her now. “Why do you say that?”

The shift in her expression was instant. Where mild amusement had played with derision on her face, hesitation and fear flooded in. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she studied the carpet intensely and squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Something was up, and suddenly his senses were on high alert.

“Bunny, what is it?” 

“I… I was hoping to have this conversation later.” A steadying breath gusted out of her. “But I guess we should get it out of the way.”

Her hand left his and instead wrapped around her ribs as she hugged herself, still not looking at him. “There’s a reason, besides my age, that my parents were so eager to shove me onto you when your family seemed interested. A reason I believed for so long that Balthier was probably my only chance at normal life…” She trailed off. He didn’t like this one bit.

“It’s okay,” he said when other words seemed only slightly less ineffective.

“I don’t want you to be upset with me,” she admitted quietly. 

“I’ll be more upset if you aren’t honest,” he said and she gulped.

“I don’t want kids.” Her eyes flashed to his and then away again, but he spotted the anxious tears already beginning to form. “I know you said you’re not actually that fond of them, but doesn’t every alpha want offspring? That’s the whole reason this stupid primal attraction between our kinds exists. Omegas are supposed to want to have babies and raise a family but I… I don’t. Whatever crazy natural predilection for parenthood I’m supposed to have, I never got. And maybe that will change, but it hasn’t in years. I want to do so much still, and I just can’t imagine a kid being part of that equation...”

When he was silent, she took a shaking breath and squeezed her arms tighter. “I’m sorry. If that’s a deal breaker I can go.”

The sound of his relieved laugh startled her. “Sorry,” he managed, before reaching to tug her closer, then free her hand to hold again, “I was just expecting a lot worse than that.”

“Y-you’re not mad?” Her eyes were wide as he pulled her again until she was sitting on his lap. She was too surprised to fight it when he cupped her face and leaned up to kiss her forehead.

“Nope.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone, glad to see the tears that had dangled on her lashes begin to recede. “Surprised, maybe, because I thought that was the whole deal with omegas. But I’m not mad, or disappointed in you, or any of that crap.”

A nervous smile bloomed on her lips. “So… all good?”

This time, he kissed her proper, and she hummed appreciatively. “All good.”

“Okay.” [FN] wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder to mumble, “Thank you.” 

He squeezed her back. “‘Course.”

When she finally released him, she started, and let out a frustrated noise. “The food! I hope it’s not too cold now…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured her as she stood back up and glanced fretfully at his plate. “Thanks, [FN].”

Her smile was glowing. “Thank _you._ Let me know if anything tastes off. It’s been a bit since I cooked for someone else.”

“You never cooked for Balthier?” The question was out before he could stop it, and Biggs cursed silently. She was quiet for a few moments, and he wondered if she was going to pretend she hadn’t heard him ask.

“I used to. Then he started coming home later or ordering in before I could. So I mostly cooked for myself.” She shrugged and dished up some food for herself. Deciding it was best to leave the topic for now, he lifted some of the sustenance in question to his mouth, a surprised noise escaping as he chewed.

“Well if it’s gonna be this good,” he announced, swallowing, “you can come over whenever you want.”

The way she brightened was far from subtle. “Really?”

He seemed a bit embarrassed at the unexpected invitation but nodded. “Really really.”

* * *

A sharp click followed her steps as Fran’s heels led the way across the office lobby, doing her best to ignore the quiet presence behind her. She was not overly fond of Balthier using his connections for personal agendas like this, but there was no point contesting it now. At least, not until they were home. Her only regret was that she hadn’t realized he’d done it until Tseng had shown up in the lobby minutes earlier.

“Penelo.” The young blonde at the desk outside Balthier’s office glanced with startled eyes up at Fran. She was too slow to hide her phone from the elder girl’s eyes, but Fran just sighed in disdain. “Is he in?”

“Y-yeah! He has a meeting in a few, but he’s still here for now.” When the pair began to stride past her, Penelo darted up, stuttering nervously, “W-wait, I think he was on the phone and--”

Her warning went ignored as Fran shoved the door open. Sure enough, Balthier was speaking in rushed words on the phone, stabbing his pen at a document before him on the desk. He glanced up finally when she stood right in front of him and cleared her throat. For a moment his irritation stayed in place, then he saw who had followed her in and grinned.

“Hey let me call you back. Yes of course I actually will, just need to wrap something up before my 2 o’clock. Yeah yeah, see you later.” With the call ended, he set his phone down and eyed the pair. Fran turned and leaned against the desk next to him, both their eyes fixing on Tseng. Their guest bowed politely before offering a smile of equally cool emotion.

“Pardon the intrusion, Mr. Bunansa.” Balthier winced at the use of his last name but gestured for the other man to continue. “I believe you wanted an immediate report once we concluded our findings.”

Exhaling slowly, Balthier rounded the desk, sitting on it next to Fran. “Indeed I did. I hope you have something I can use.”

“Oh trust me,” Tseng replied, pulling a manila envelope from inside his suit jacket and passing it to Balthier, “I think you’ll find this quite interesting.”

With Fran peering over his shoulder, Balthier tore open the envelope, pulling the contents out. Aside from the ever-meticulous notes the Turks provided, there was a dossier sheet, what appeared to be some kind of schedule, and a series of photos. It was the last of these that interested him most, and he set the rest of the documents aside to flip through them. Most of them were unremarkable, just shots of the man whom he’d sicced Shinra’s dogs on. But the last few caught his attention (probably placed last for that exact reason).

The man was in these too, but this time he wasn’t alone. Though it was hard to see through the crowd at the grocery store, there was no mistaking the face he’d seen every day for the last few years. [FN] was smiling unabashedly at her companion, fingers intertwined with his. It should have made him jealous, but all he felt was the smallest flicker alongside his irritation. Even so, a smirk made its way across his face, and he moved back behind his desk to rifle through a drawer.

“Thank you for your help, Tseng.” He scribbled on a blank check in the book he pulled out, then tore it off and handed it to the other man. “Be sure to send your boss my thanks as well. I know he must have missed your service while you were doing this.”

“Of course.” Tseng tucked the check into his coat pocket and bowed again. “If you have any further need for our assistance, don’t hesitate to contact Vice President Shinra.”

“Will do.” Balthier watched the other man leave before picking up his phone and beginning to scroll through it. Fran watched him quietly for a few moments, then leaned toward him. He kissed her cheek quickly as her brows quirked into a frown.

“What are you going to do now?” She wasn’t sure if she asked out of curiosity or concern.

That devious smirk that said he had a plan forming was back. “What I do best, sweetheart. Exploit his weakness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure it feels like I'm just throwing random characters in here but I promise I'm putting some thought into this. xD I wasn't going to add much more about what’s happening with Fran and Balthier yet, but decided to move this last part up into this chapter. Let me know what you guys think about the pacing of things so far!


	7. trip.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang decides to take a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to write out a few chapters and then post them but i will be on the road again the next few days so i wanted to get this out now. ^^ hope you like!

“Okay do you think you could stop drinking me out of house and home for five minutes?”

“It’s not even your bar!”

“Then at least do it for your liver!”

Biggs scowled. “You’re such a killjoy, Tifa. Not my fault it’s too damn hot to live.”

Snatching the glass of beer from him, though it was essentially empty anyway, she pushed water toward him instead. “Then drink some of this. Maybe you wouldn’t be so hot if you were properly hydrated.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s going to change a thing,” Jessie snickered over her own glass of rum and coke. “He’ll always be smokin’ - right, [FN]?”

“E-excuse me!?” The redhead squeaked as her friend chortled.

“Hey now,” Biggs reprimanded, though he seemed mildly embarrassed as well. Tifa shook her head from behind the bar and went back to her inventory of the shelves.

It was well into August now, and though it was broad daylight, the sweltering heat had chased their little group indoors. Technically they shouldn’t be allowed inside, but 7th’s owner had taken off on a vacation, leaving Tifa in charge. More officially than she usually was, at any rate. It would have felt strange to see the bar in such stark illumination, but it had become a regular haunt of late, and most times they’d stuck around until the lights came on and the other patrons were chased out.

Though she had been nervous since that first night out with them, [FN] had found herself making fast friends of Wedge, Jessie, and Tifa. They had extended a warm welcome to their circle readily once Biggs (rather embarrassingly) mentioned they were official one night, and from there it had been a simple matter of getting to know each other. In particular it seemed like Jessie had attached herself to her, perhaps because she was one of three fellow females in their group. For whatever reason, she could tell the other woman’s familiar behavior bothered Biggs for some reason at first, but he had eventually chilled out.

“Days like this really make me wish the beach wasn’t so far away,” Wedge remarked. He had a far-off look in his eye, like he was daydreaming of sand and surf.

“That sounds so nice,” [FN] agreed wistfully. 

Jessie tapped her chin in thought. “Why don’t we go out there for the weekend?” The others looked at her. “Don’t you have a friend with a place out that way, Tifa? Maybe they’ll let us rent it for a few days, or something.”

“I’d have to ask him,” Tifa hummed. “But it does sound like fun.”

“We’d need to figure out who all is going,” Biggs noted. “So your friend knows how many people are going to be trouncing the house.”

“ _ If  _ he agrees.”

“Could I bring someone?” [FN] smiled nervously when all eyes turned to her. “I think my friend might be interested, and I haven’t seen her in a while. Plus more people, more ways to split the cost, right?”

“Right!” Jessie agreed. “So, are we all in?”

Wedge nodded. “I am!”

“Me too,” Tifa agreed. “And Mel will be too, I’m sure.”

“I could use a break too,” Biggs said, and [FN] beamed.

“Alrighty then! I’ll talk to Cloud and let you guys know. Should be by the end of the week!”

* * *

Lucky for them, Tifa reported a few days later that Cloud had agreed to let them invade his house for a weekend. Once the group had decided when, they spent the remaining time arguing over plans for travel and sleeping arrangements. Despite the chaos of planning for so many people, [FN] found herself fighting mounting excitement as the days to their departure ticked down.

It was decided that since Wedge owned the car with the most space (an older but reliable minivan), he would be the driver for their group. Since Mel and Tifa had to close up shop the first day, they would be going separately and joining them later. This left Jessie, Biggs, [FN], and her friend Misty to pile in with everyone’s supplies for the weekend and pray no one lost their sanity during the several hour trip to Costa del Sol.

The ride was largely uneventful. Jessie had made a playlist she insisted they listen to, and to which she and Wedge did a plentiful amount of “caraoke.” [FN] tuned it out by sharing her earbuds with Misty to watch a movie on her phone, and Biggs seemed to fall asleep at some point. She only realized the latter when she felt him collide with her as Wedge took a turn too fast, and he didn’t immediately move off her. Though she tried to shove him gently away, it was a futile effort, and eventually she simply adjusted so he was resting more comfortably against her.

Tifa had helped give them directions, but as they turned down the road the place was supposed to be on, [FN] wondered if she’d written them down wrong. It was lined with ritzy looking cottages and villas, most of which she was certain were worth several times her parents’ home. How the hell someone their age could afford one without being massively successful was a mystery to her. And last she’d heard from Tifa, this Cloud person was just some kind of freelancer.

Wedge slowed down as they finally rolled to a brief stop outside a villa, the gate to the driveway decorated only with a simple sign of the house number. [FN] nudged Biggs again and then leaned around him to stare out the window, her jaw dropping in surprise. The place appeared to be one of the nicest ones on the street, and was certainly something she could never dream of affording. They  _ had  _ to be at the wrong house, right?

_ Right? _

But when they used the keypad to enter the code for the gate, the numbers Tifa had passed to them from Cloud worked and they were able to pull up the short drive outside. Wedge parked the van and after a few moments in which everyone stared at each other in uncertainty, Jessie made the first move and threw open the door on her side. The others followed her lead and began piling out of the car and gathering their things from the trunk.

Jessie was also the first to ring the doorbell when they found the door was still locked, [FN] and the others falling into line behind her. Who was this “Cloud” going to be? Tifa’s network of acquaintances was fairly impressive after working in the bar industry for so long, so there was no real way of knowing. Just as [FN] opened her mouth to suggest maybe they should try just knocking this time, the door swung open and surprise rippled through them.

“Tifa’s friends, right?” The words were gruff but not angry as the blonde young man holding open the door peered at them. He was tall and wiry, his eyes a peculiar mix of blue and green. [FN] swore she heard Misty squeak next to her, and Jessie’s eyebrows raised, a flirtatious smile sliding into place.

“You bet. We could be yours too if you’d like.” [FN] wondered how Jessie was able to deliver such a ridiculous line without flinching. “Are you Cloud?”

To his credit, the young man just rolled his eyes. “Yup. Come on in.” He stepped out of the way and they all trekked through the door. 

If [FN] had been confused on how he afforded the place before, she was even more baffled when she saw the inside. The place was spacious and modern, with plenty of wide windows to let in the famous rays of Costa del Sol sunshine. Their host led the way to the base of a set of stairs that faced what must have been the entrance to another room. Sliding the towel from around his neck, he jerked his thumb toward the archway next to him.

“Kitchen and stuff through there.” He nodded at the stairs. “Bedrooms are up there, three of them, and two bathrooms.”

“And which room is yours?” The others gave Jessie incredulous looks but she just shrugged. “Just so we know.”

Cloud glanced away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “Last door at the end,” he mumbled, then disappeared through the archway. [FN] almost felt bad for him.

“So who’s rooming with who?” Several sets of eyes landed on her, and [FN] flushed instinctively.

“What?” She asked, probably sounding way too defensive.

Biggs interjected, “Well we need to save one for Mel and Tifa. Unless someone wants to deal with them for the night?” There was a mutual sound of agreement.

“Girls in one, you and me in the other?” Wedge suggested. Grateful to have a decision made, [FN] clutched her bag tighter and led the way up the stairs.

It was decided that although Jessie was adamantly against sharing with the boys, the room with its own bathroom would go to the late arriving couple. The groups shuffled off to their respective rooms from there to put away their stuff. Biggs and Wedge elected to get the remaining supplies from the car, leaving [FN] and the girls to their own devices.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wanna stay with your new beau.” The comment was so nonchalant, [FN] almost didn’t realize Jessie was talking to her. But then she caught sight of the girl’s cat-like smile from where she sat on the bed and scowled.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“We’re both surprised you opted to stay with us and not Biggs,” Misty interjected.

[FN] cast her a curious look. “I couldn’t just ditch you.”

Misty snorted. “I can handle myself.”

Staring at her hands, [FN] sat down next to Jessie. “Well, it’s not like he was exactly jumping at the chance, either.” 

Jessie’s eyes rolled. “I’m sure he’s just being an idiot.”

* * *

Dropping his bag on the floor Biggs sighed. They’d gotten the rest of the stuff they’d brought from the car and coolers into the kitchen at least, and at last they could really get this trip started. 

“I’m glad you suggested staying together,” he admitted to Wedge, who was rummaging through his own bag. The other man raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t want to stay with [FN]?” He met the question with a groan.

“Of course I did! But that’s exactly the reason I shouldn’t.”

“Uh huh. Because that makes so much sense.” 

Biggs glared. “I don’t want to lose my cool with her. She’s already made it clear she wants to take things slow and I…” He hesitated. “I don’t trust myself to do that.”

“Hey man,” Wedge consoled, patting his shoulder, “it’s only natural! I’m sure she appreciates you trying to be all respectful and everything.”

“I just wanna do things right,” Biggs said, not sure what else to say.

“Just make sure you tell her she looks cute at the beach.” 

He stilled with his hands in his bag, staring at Wedge. “Wait, what?”

“What, did you forget that whole point of this trip?” Wedge was laughing now as Biggs stared at him in increasing horror.

It was going to be a long weekend.

* * *

Wedge insisted on making dinner for everyone despite having driven them all here, even offering their host a spot at the meal when Cloud passed through. The blonde declined politely before slipping away again, and over the rim of her red Solo drink [FN] thought she caught Misty seeming disappointed. Jessie met her eyes and they grinned at each other. 

Even [FN] had to concede that Wedge’s chicken tacos were pretty damn good, and by the time everyone had finished, she was starting to feel the trip weigh heavy on her senses. Sure she hadn’t been the one driving, but it was still a long time to be in the car, and she hadn’t slept well the night before since she had spent it catching up with Misty. After a few halfhearted attempts at small talk, the group decided sleep would do everyone good.

Clutching her bag of toiletries, she padded into the hall and peered around the bathroom door. Empty. She probably could have squeezed in with the other girls earlier, but she always felt awkward if she was too in the way. With a twist of the faucet and her toothpaste cap, she raised her toothbrush and stuck it in her mouth right as the door opened again. Startled, she turned to see Biggs standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said, giving her an awkward wave.

“‘Ey,’” she mumbled around the bristles in her mouth. She shuffled to the side as he nudged the door shut again and fumbled with his own toothbrush.

Silence settled in again as they both went through the motions of nighttime routine. Leaning over the sink, [FN] turned the water on and spat, running her own toothbrush through the stream. When she stood up again Biggs was staring at her and she raised her eyebrow as she stuck the brush in her mouth again. He mirrored the actions, eyebrows included. With mounting amusement she held his gaze as she continued brushing for a few moments, then spat again, watching as he did the same. Laughter was starting to build up in her throat and she had to focus so as not to choke when they went yet another round. 

Finally her gag reflex won out from the influx of water and fluoride, and she leaned over the sink, toothbrush forgotten as she coughed and scooped water into her mouth to swish and spit one last time. Still trying to settle her breathing, she let Biggs pat her on the back a few times even as he spat out his last mouthful of water and started laughing.

“Th-this is,” she coughed again, scowling, “this is all your fault you know.”

He seemed apologetic for all of two seconds before he was grinning again. “I know.”

“Ass.” There was no venom in the insult whatsoever, especially not when he reached over and put one arm around her waist to pull her closer. He tasted like mint and mirth and though she wanted to be annoyed, she couldn’t help smiling against his lips. 

She had been nervous about this trip, about taking it with him, even with all of their friends (and one of her closest ones) there as a buffer. Wasn’t this normally something people did later? Was he expecting something to happen? She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, no matter how much her heart threatened to beat out of her chest when he tilted her head back and kissed her harder. Or despite how her motor functions betrayed her, dropping her arms around his neck and leaning just a little bit closer. Up against him like this, she could smell that same scent that clung to that stupid shirt and every part of his apartment and it made her dizzy with too many things to name. It forced a throaty hum from her that might have almost been a moan if she didn’t force it back.

After another moment where she very nearly contemplated using the counter as leverage to wrap herself around him, he pulled away, and she was forced to find her balance and breath again. She watched as he leaned over the sink again to rinse out his mouth properly, and when he wasn’t looking she sighed and straightened her hair and clothes. Tucking her toothbrush and toothpaste back into her bag and praying only she heard the pounding of blood in her ears, she made to slip past him to the hallway, sure her roommates were probably wondering what she was doing in here for so long. He grabbed her hand as she reached the door, squeezing it gently.

“G’night, bunny.” 

“Night, Biggs.”

As she expected, Jessie and Misty were sitting on the bed waiting, and looked up when she came back in. There was a spread of playing cards between them, but [FN] couldn’t seem to tell what they’d been playing. When the door had clicked shut, Jessie pounced, grabbing her arms and grinning the like damn Cheshire Cat.

“What took you so long in there? I thought you only went to brush your teeth.” It was an obvious prod.

[FN] just shrugged and tucked her things away again. “I did.”

Misty seemed just as unconvinced. “Yeah,  _ and?” _

“And nothing!” [FN] insisted, earning four rolling eyes.

“That’s not what that blush says,” Jessie teased and watched the shorter girl clap her hands to her cheeks in mortification.

“We saw Biggs go in there,” Misty added, her own smile devious now. “And you seriously expect us to believe you  _ both  _ only brushed your teeth?”

[FN] flushed. “ _ Yes! _ ” 

“Liar. You two were in there way too long.” 

Groaning, [FN] threw herself on one side of the bed and turned away from them. Pulling one of the pillows over her head she grumbled, “I hate you both.”

“More lies. You’ll have to go to confession for all this dishonesty,” Jessie tsked.

“And because you were boning your boyfriend in the bathroom with all your friends in hearing range,” Misty added. She narrowly managed to get her arms up in time to defend against the pillow that flew at her face. 

“Just go to sleep!” [FN] yelled, and they laughed.

It was going to be a long weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: beach ova proper!! there might be a few of these because i had several ideas and i don't want to cram anything in or drag things on too long but we'll see! i promise it will all be worth it~


	8. see sea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang spends the day at the beach.  
> it's exactly what you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory beach episode!!

The morning was dealt with slowly, the bright rays of that beloved Costa del Sol sun arriving bright and early to cut through the light curtains despite attempts to sleep past it. Plans were made over eggs and bacon scavenged from their supplies to hit the beach, and spend as much time there as possible. Cloud came through as they were discussing, and in a confusing flurry of words and flirting from Jessie, they convinced him to join in.

Back upstairs, [FN] had gathered the items she was going to take when the door snapped shut. She clutched the tote to her chest, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jessie, but spared a moment to glare at her.

“You scared me!” She scolded, diggin in her suitcase again. “Hey do you have any extra--”

“ _ What _ is that?” The veritable offense in the other girl’s voice had [FN] scanning the room in confusion. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so she shrugged and Jessie brushed past her with a sigh. [FN] produced a surprised squawk as the strap of the bathing suit she’d changed into snapped against her skin.

“You’re not wearing that,” Jessie announced, holding something up. [FN]’s eyes widened.

“No way!” Her back hit the bathroom door as the other girl advanced. In any other situation it might have been comedic. “Jessie there is no way I’m putting that on!”

“Oh come on, I saw it and I knew you had to wear it. Just think of how much you’ll make him sweat - and I don’t mean from the sunshine!”

[FN] frowned even as her cheeks tinged red. “You just want to embarrass us both. Nuh uh.”

At that moment the door reopened, and Misty glanced between the two. Ducking away from Jessie, [FN] hurried to her friend and gave her the most pathetic pleading look she could manage. “Please Misty, you gotta help me!”

“Huh?” The dark-haired girl’s eyes found the item in Jessie’s hands and with a sinking feeling [FN] realized she was going to be no help at all, beginning to back away. Unfortunately, being friends for so long meant Misty knew her too well, and managed to grab her arms to stop her from running off. “I’ve got her, but you better be fast.”

Jessie’s grin was predatory. “This is gonna be good.”

* * *

Despite being crowded with other folks trying to chase off the summer heat, the beach was as beautiful as the travel brochures would have one believe. Clean white sand, sparkling water, nary a cloud in the sky. It almost looked like a scene from a movie. Biggs couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps something was done to keep it that way.

He and Wedge had once again been relegated to equipment duty after Jessie insisted the girls needed more time to prep for the day ahead. The idea of Cloud being in charge of their safe arrival wasn’t appealing, but he liked it better than her original one to borrow the poor guy’s ride. Even  _ he  _ didn’t trust her behind the wheel after the last time…

With a shudder that had nothing to do with the warm breeze, he shook the memory from his mind and hopped out to help Wedge with the first of their gear. Being sent ahead meant they were also being trusted to find a good spot to set up, so they made their load light as they trekked from the car to scan the shore. Eventually they found one a bit further out, near the start of some sort of path through the trees. It was a bit of a walk but it would do. While Wedge pulled out his phone to take a picture of where they were (Mel and Tifa would also be meeting them there), Biggs grabbed the keys and went back to the car.

Several trips later they’d created a decent spread of the blankets, two coolers, and even an umbrella, and worked up a sweat. Checking their group text, he saw the others were still a few minutes out and decided to test the waters and cool off. Sure enough, the sand in the shallows was soft but not slimy, and the water clear enough he could see the way it sunk beneath his feet. They really were in some kind of paradise.

Just as he was considering swimming out a bit further, he heard Wedge calling his name. Turning back toward the shore, he could just barely make out four figures headed their way from the direction of the parking lot. Sloughing his way across the sand, he arrived back just as Cloud and the girls were dropping their things.

“Nice spot!” Jessie complimented, her eyes shaded to squint towards the water. Cloud nodded approvingly, offering as few words as ever. His eyes landed on [FN] and Misty who were whispering about something a few feet away. While the other two girls were clearly beach ready in their swimwear, [FN] still wore an oversized t-shirt and shorts. There was little time to decide if he was glad for her modesty or disappointed, since Wedge was suddenly asking him about his stint in the surf.

“How was the water, Biggs?” 

He forced himself to focus on his friend as he shrugged. “Pretty good. Little cold at first but with the heat like this, it feels great.”

“Awesome! Let’s head in! Everyone got their SPF on?” Coupled with her vintage-looking swimsuit, which Biggs belatedly realized was an homage to that absurd lifeguard show, the question made Jessie sound ridiculous. He snorted and dug into the cooler for one of the beers, popping it open.

“Oh!” [FN] turned and pulled a bottle from her bag. “I didn’t get a chance in the car - Jessie can you help me?”

“Sure thing.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, [FN] reached down and tugged the hem of the shirt up over her head, and suddenly Biggs had to pretend he had not started choking at the sight of what she’d been hiding underneath.

The swimsuit was a muted olive color that went well with the dark red locks still swishing across her shoulders. Its straps looked like braided rope that traced a path from around her neck, down and around her chest before wrapping around her ribs, highlighting all the places he definitely should  _ not  _ be looking. The sun had next to nothing to do with the way his blood started boiling when she bent over to push her shorts down, unveiling the matching bottoms, made up only of three similar lines of rope and a low-slung cut of fabric that barely covered her--

He was pulled from his overanalysis of her outfit by [FN] passing the bottle in her hand to Jessie, and suddenly the idea of the other alpha touching her - even platonically - seemed ludicrous. Before he could process what he was doing, he’d crossed the sand to where they stood. [FN]’s eyes were wide as she stared up at him but he ignored her to focus instead on the all-too familiar devilish smirk on Jessie’s face as he took the sunscreen from her. 

“I’ll do it.” The rough edge to his words is wildly out of place but he can’t bring himself to care. Luckily if she noticed, the other alpha only snickered before patting his arm and sauntering off to grab Misty by the arm and pull the other girl with her to the water’s edge. When he looked down again, there was a slight red tinge to [FN]’s cheeks and she was staring at the sand. Belatedly he realized he might have overstepped and started to hand her back the bottle. “Sorry, if you’d rather I can--”

“It’s okay. I appreciate it.” He almost insisted on going back after all when she turned her back to him and he saw how truly useless her bathing suit was at covering anything on this side. But he’d dug himself into this grave, so how much further could he fall?

The answer -  _ a lot. _

It took all of ten seconds having her bare skin under his hands to realize he had made a mistake. He did his best to be polite, really, but wasn’t the point of sunscreen that you had to get it  _ everywhere?  _ Pretty sure that was what hee’d read once. She lifted her hair when he asked, and helped hold up the various straps so he could slide his fingers beneath them, praying to god he didn’t lose focus and start wandering off track. Good god was it a tempting thought, with how close he got to her waistband. As he smoothed the stuff over her shoulders, his traitorous brain reminded him that if he moved his hands just a few inches lower he could find out just how padded (or not) her top even was and--

“I can get the rest!” Her strained words pulled him crashing back to reality and with reflexes he never remembered having, he pulled his hands away. Clearing his throat, he brushed a hair off her neck that had stuck there and stepped back.

God, he couldn’t even look at her. “H-here.” Shoving the bottle back into her hands, Biggs turned and made his way to the water, glaring at Jessie as she cackled the entire time. With his back turned, he missed the way [FN] finally let out the breath she’d been holding, and prayed for her knees to stop trembling.

Why the hell was she getting so worked up over sunscreen?

* * *

The rest of their afternoon was fairly uneventful. As the sun rose higher in the sky, they alternated between dips in the water and chatter on the sand, occasionally attempting to divert into group games that went nowhere. At one point, a game of frisbee turned into an argument between Wedge and Jessie over whether or not there was even a scoring system, and if there was, how she might have cheated.

Mel and Tifa joined the chaos as lunch was being prepared, and thankfully they’d thought to bring plates and napkins with them. [FN] picked slowly at her own sandwich, the heat and activity wearing on her appetite even more than usual. At least that’s what she attributed her higher temperature and what felt like excessive sweating to. Not like she had done much else since they got here. 

After lunch, another swim was definitely in order, so with the last of their number in tow, they all trekked down to the water again. It seemed like something had stirred up the water while they were away, and [FN] shrieked as a wave larger than some of the others hurtled towards her, then broke into laughter alongside Biggs as he scooped her out of harm’s way.

They continued playing chicken with the towering waves for a while, a few even escalating to roughhousing and attempting to shove each other into them first. It was after a particularly large one crashed over them and sent [FN] sputtering and staggering that she realized their number had dwindled somewhat. Tifa, Jessie, and Wedge had swam out a bit in an attempt to avoid the worst of the waves, but she could have sworn Misty had gone with them..

“Misty!” She yelled, panic starting to set in. Biggs looked at her curiously, then caught sight of her nervous expression. “Miiiiisty!”

“What’s wrong?” Cloud had joined them and [FN] sucked in a breath to calm down.

“I don’t see her anymore! She’s from Junon, she doesn’t know how to swim, that’s why she went with the group, but now I-I--”

Biggs wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, bunny, we’ll find her.”

The three of them started scanning the horizon, then a flash of blue and dark hair caught [FN]’s attention. “THERE!” She started toward the deeper water, but another wave was rising and Biggs pulled her back.

Cloud squinted at where she’d been looking. “She must have gotten swept out with one of the waves. I’ll get her.”

Clinging to Biggs, she watched as Cloud jogged into the water and then dove in, swimming with surprising skill out toward where she’d spotted Misty. For several nerve-wracking minutes she could only pray. Then she saw two spots of dark brown and blonde heading back to them, and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding when she saw her best friend in Cloud’s arms. Misty appeared, in fact, to be quite conscious if a bit bedraggled, but was mutely holding onto him as Cloud carried her carefully back to shore, her face beet red.

“Thank the planet!” [FN] rushed over and threw her arms around her neck, then declared that beach day was very much at its end.

They all headed back to gather their things, and she opted to help toss the rest of their trash before they left. Scooping up the remaining bottles and snack bags, she trudged over and began depositing them in a garbage bin. One of the plastic bottles slipped from her arms, though, and as she bent to pick it up, a pale hand reached out and snatched it from beneath her nose. Curious, she followed the arm attached up to its owner, a smirking man with long red hair, slicked back despite the summer heat. He wore an open short-sleeved button-up and neon swim trunks alongside his slightly smarmy grin.

“Dropped this, princess.” 

[FN] took the bottle and offered him a small grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Man I thought we’d seen every cute girl on the beach today, but you really take the cake!” It was then she noticed the guy standing behind him, a stark contrast in his dark tee and shorts. And most notably, the bald head where his friend had full locks.

“Um,” she offered smartly, unsure how to reply to the compliment. Red-head leaned closer, almost caging her in against the trash bin.

“Are you here by yourself? Because that would certainly be a shame.”

“[FN], are you okay?” Glancing over her shoulder, she found Biggs standing a few feet away, glaring at the two men. She smiled gratefully and he was by her side in a second, one arm sliding almost possessively around her waist.

She nodded, leaning pointedly into him. “Yeah, I’m fine. They were just saying hi.”

His eyes narrowed. “You know them?”

“Sorry dude, we thought she was someone else.” Red-hair put his hands up in surrender as his friend nodded in agreement. Though she could’ve contested, [FN] just smiled sweetly and waved farewell.

Biggs said nothing.

“See you around.” And with a final wink they were gone. [FN] sighed and leaned further against Biggs to look up at him.

“Sorry about that,” she said but he shook his head.

“Not your fault.” A kiss to her nose had her giggling and swatting him away. “Come on, let’s head back to the others.

* * *

After a round of showers and some light debate, everyone agreed that barbeque and socializing out in the yard sounded like a great time. At the behest of several, Biggs took over the grill while Tifa did her thing mixing up drinks for everyone. Cloud’s back porch was just big enough for them all to drag some chairs about to sit at the outdoor fire pit while they waited for dinner to be made. Seeing the house owner in question situated close to Misty (who kept insisting she was fine although no one listened) made a smile quirk her lips. He hadn’t left her side since this afternoon except where propriety dictated.

Sometime after everyone was full of burgers and booze, Wedge broke out the fixings for smore’s, and though it wasn’t the same as a real wood and kindling fire, everyone took their turn to roast at least one marshmallow over the gas flames. Everyone, except [FN], who quietly declined and continued sipping her drink, earning a curious look from Misty.

“What? You  _ never  _ pass up sweets!”

[FN] smiled sheepishly. “I guess the heat just got to me today. I don’t feel like it.”

Tifa frowned. “Should you be drinking then?”

“I’ll be fine!” She insisted and that was that.

When somewhere between sundown and midnight found them all just a bit too quiet to keep talking, someone called bedtime, and met no arguments. Even Cloud seemed too weary to complain when no one could be bothered to fully clean up the mess aside from tossing things in the trash or sink, and everyone said their farewells on the landing. [FN] followed the other girls into the bedroom, a weird feeling of weakness washing over her. She couldn’t wait to hit the hay.

Unfortunately, her roommates didn’t seem so inclined. Though they had appeared as mellowed as everyone else, the moment the door closed, they turned on her. Barely a syllable of protest passed her lips before they pulled her to the bed and sat down. Then they started to talk about her as if she wasn’t sitting between them.

“Oh my god, you totally ruined him today!”

“Did you see his face when he saw you? Priceless! That suit was worth every penny.”

“Just imagine what he would’ve done if we left them alone today.”

They broke down giggling and [FN] scowled. “Are you two done?”

“Come on, babe,” Jessie cooed, patting her hands. “Don’t lie, you were totally eating it up.”

“I mean, I-I guess it was nice.” A shy smile had parted her lips now as she remembered the look on Biggs’ face when she’d stripped on the beach. It was swiftly followed by another of feeling his hands on her back as he rubbed sunscreen into her skin and how she’d wished he’d been just a bit braver and let his hands wander a bit and--

“EARTH TO [FN] [LN]!” The bubble of her fantasy popped instantly and she was left only with an overwhelming warmth across her nerves that had nothing to do with her pressing embarrassment. Misty was giggling as she came down to earth and Jessie smirked.

“God you okay over there? I think you started drooling.”

“L-like you haven’t been all weekend!” [FN] shot back, jabbing a finger at Misty. “I’ve  _ seen  _ the way you’ve been ogling Cloud. You’ve got it so bad.”

Jessie shrugged. “Can you blame her? He’s a dime and then some!”

“Y’all were getting awfully cozy tonight. Did you get to talk to him?” [FN] pressed and Misty shifted nervously.

“N-not really. He doesn’t say much and I was too nervous to ask him anything.”

“Booooooo!” Jessie declared, flopping onto the bed. A second later she rolled over, smiling like she was plotting. So like always. “I have an idea.”

“I don’t like this,” [FN] said automatically.

“Not for you, lucky duck,” Jessie said, smacking her arm. “For you.”

Misty looked understandably afraid. “Can I say no?”

“If you do, you owe me seven hundred gil.”

“WHAT!”

“Don’t worry, it’s easy.” She got up and opened the door to the hall, gesturing to it. “Just prance down the hall, knock on his door, and talk to him!”

Around the sudden pounding in her head, [FN] frowned. “Misty, you don’t have to listen to her.”

“You know what, why not.” 

Jessie grinned. “That’s what I like to hear! Off you go!”

[FN] watched in shock as Misty slid from the bed and with a final nervous wave to them walked down the hall to Cloud’s door. [FN] leaned forward to peek through the doorway and watch as, to her shock, the door opened and Cloud didn’t immediately shoo her away.

“I knew it! He’s totally crushing on her.”

“It’s been like twenty-four hours,” [FN] argued and Jessie scoffed.

“Love doesn’t care about time. It just happens.”

[FN] rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

No sooner had the words passed her lips when a wild flush of heat passed through her and she had to lean on the mattress against the dizziness that followed. Her breathing sped up with it, her mind swimming. For a few moments she wondered if she had sat up too fast, but then it dulled into a quiet simmer of heat in her stomach. With mounting horror she realized what was probably happening.

“Jess,” she groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach as if that could stop the ache forming there. “Jess what’s today?”

“Uh, Saturday. Why?”

[FN] huffed a breath and glared. “No, the date.”

And then Jessie turned to look at her, actually look, and her face fell, as they both realized at the same time what was going on, and swore simultaneously.

“Oh fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this was so fun to write! much like the bar date, once i started i just didn't stop because it just kept coming!! 
> 
> next chapter will be the conclusion to our weekend trip~!


	9. together. [M]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [FN] goes into heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is rated m for mature as it contains smut/sexual content.
> 
> read at your own discretion. 
> 
> if you would like, you may skip to the next chapter & you won't miss any important story details! <3

Several things seemed to happen at once.

[FN] watched as Misty and Cloud continued to chat in the hall, her meek confidence seeming to grow by the second, completely unaware of anything else; Jessie closed the door and darted over to her, grabbing her arms and she must have been asking a question but over the roar in her ears of another painful wave of warmth, [FN] had no clue what it was; and finally, most absurdly, a single thought dropped into her mind at the serious look on the other woman’s face - _I don’t look_ **_that_ ** _bad, do I?_

“[FN]. [FN], look at me!” The stern authoritative tone cut through the fog and helped it dull to a vague unfocused feeling. Jessie had knelt beside the bed, and once she realized she had the smaller omega’s attention, she let out a sigh of relief. “Glad to see you’re still with us at least.”

[FN] realized then what she hadn’t before - why Biggs always seemed more on edge when she was close to Jessie. Though one might not immediately suspect it, the other female was an alpha too. It also explained their more antagonistic banter. Her hormones seemed to know it too, already off on a tangent wondering what it might be like to kiss her. 

Oh right, she’d said something. “Think so,” she managed around the stupid instincts clawing up her throat.

Jessie frowned. “You’re on suppressants aren’t you? Are you sure it isn’t just heatstroke?”

A low whine escaped her and [FN] clamped her eyes shut. “No.”

“No it isn’t or no you’re not sure?”

[FN] just glared petulantly.

“Right, right, sorry, just making sure.” Her face was still serious when she said, “What do you need?” 

There were a number of answers to that but she settled on, “I need to be alone for a bit. Please.”

“Roger that.” That seemed to be the end of her questions, and [FN] let herself flop over onto the bed, trying to focus on just breathing.

She could still remember the battle it had been with her parents convincing them to let her start using suppressors. They hailed from a generation whose internalized misogyny believed her disinterest in kids would change. But [FN] has seen how less savory alphas behaved and wanted nothing to do with it. Someone had to take precaution and it might as well be her.

That had been years ago, though, in her teens, and she couldn’t recall a time her heats had been this bad since. Another quiet whimper escaped as the pain slowly creeping down her body flared. At least if she was home she’d have her own ways to… cope. But the embarrassment of trying to do so in a veritable stranger’s home only barely managed to overcome the burning _need_ clawing at her.

Jessie came back a moment later, two water bottles and what must have been a bag of ice clutched in her hands. A soft sigh gusted out as the bag met her forehead and she offered no complaints as her friend scooped her off the bed. At the door to the bathroom, she paused and [FN] squinted at her blearily.

“Do you want me to get Biggs?” She asked. His name brought a flurry of sensations and emotions to mind and she had to brace herself against the unexpected want that followed. When she could breathe enough to clear her head she shook it.

“N-no. Just… I don’t know. I can’t see him.” _I don’t know what’ll happen if I do._

Jessie seemed to understand and set her on the floor, leaving the other items nearby. “Yell if you need anything else, okay? I’ll see if Tifa has some stuff to help.”

[FN] smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

Then she breathed deeply and curled up on the floor as the lock clicked.

* * *

Tifa and Jessie’s voices in the hall pulled Biggs away from the mindless scrolling he’d been doing on his phone. Something had been bothering him since dinner, but unable to figure it out, he’d tried for distraction instead. So much for his P.I. skills. Setting his phone down, he opened the door and poked his head into the hall.

“What’s going on?” The women glanced at each other then at him, and it only made his uneasiness worse. “Something happened or you wouldn’t be conspiring out here. What is it?”

“It’s…” Jessie trailed off, glancing at the beta of their group hopelessly. Tifa sighed and shook her head.

“[FN]’s suppressants didn’t work.” She said the words simply, as if he should know exactly what she meant. And though it took him a bit, he did, and his eyes widened.

“Is she okay?” 

Jessie nodded quickly. “She’ll be fine. I set her up in the bathroom so she can take care of it.”

Something hot and red flared up in him at this revelation. That Jessie had been within reach of his girlfriend at a time like this, touched _his—_ He cut the thought off there but glared at her. “I’ll handle it. You stay away.”

“She said she didn’t want to see you,” Jessie said, sounding a little too acerbic about it. The words stung but he shrugged. There was no way he was letting her back in there without him, at least.

“Then she doesn’t have to _see_ me. But I’m not leaving you alone with her.” For a moment he could see the irritated snarl forming on her face, but then Jessie sighed and shook her head. Tifa glanced between them anxiously.

“I think I have some meds that can help her take the edge off until we get back tomorrow, but Biggs is right too. We shouldn’t just leave her alone in there.” She looked at him seriously. “It should be you. But you have to be careful, okay?”

Even he could agree with that. “I will. Don’t let anyone else in until we say so.”

Tifa nodded before turning to Jessie. “You and Misty can stay in our room tonight. I’m sure Cloud can help us get that set up. We’ll figure something out for Wedge too.” With one last warning look at him, she grabbed Jessie and pulled her away. 

Steeling his nerves, he turned back to the girls’ room and pulled the door closed. Just standing in that doorway his senses could pick up on the traces of her and the pheromones called to him like some kind of siren song. _Ignore it,_ he told himself as he went back to his room and crossed the carpet to the shared bathroom. _You can do it. For her._ At least Tifa had gotten Wedge out of the room too.

If he’d thought just the brief hint of her was torment, he was wholly unprepared for the potency of being on the other side of a plywood door. It took several long moments of breathing and focusing to fight back the cloud of desperate hunger that set upon him. Resisting her was hard enough normally, but now? He felt like Atlas trying to hold up the world.

“Bunny?” He finally managed. There was a soft _thunk_ of something falling over, then fabric against tile. If he focused he could almost hear her own labored breathing just a few inches away.

“Yeah?” 

“You okay?”

“I-I’ve,” she huffed, “I’ve been better.”

He couldn’t help smiling at that. “Sure sound okay.”

“I’m m-managing.” She was quiet again for a bit. “It’s never been this ba-“ Her words were cut off by a low whine that made his nostrils flare, “this bad before.”

“Anything I can do?” _Seriously, Christ,_ **_anything._ **

There was a soft squeak as if he’d caught her by surprise, but she didn’t say anything for a while. He took the chance to lean against the door and sit on the carpet. Even if she said no, he could at least make sure the others didn’t bother her.

Then: “Tell me what to do. Please.”

Biggs inhaled slowly, which of course only drew more of her into his lungs and made his head swim. This was veering into dangerous territory very quickly and if he didn’t get a handle on things, he might lose it completely. 

“Bunny, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“ _Please_ , Biggs I--”

He was going to hell for this.

“You’ve touched yourself before, right?” It’s a stupid question but he blames hormones and enhanced olfactory senses on his inability to form proper sentences. There’s silence for a bit and he wonders if maybe he went too far.

“A few times,” she answers, breathless.

“Okay. Whatever you thought of when you did, focus on that.” He can hear her shift and it takes all his strength to try and not picture her shimmying those stupid short shorts out of the way so she can--

_Fuck!_ Head in his hands, he tried to breathe but now that the wolf in his head had the image in hand, it wouldn’t let go. On the other side of the wood, she whimpered and that strained thread of his control snapped. There was no way he was going to be able to ignore her, ignore the thousand images swimming through his brain of just what he would do if that door wasn’t keeping them separated. Sure, he could do something about the door too, if he really wanted, but--

“B-Biggs?” His name in her voice, broken and keening, cuts through the fog. It’s the real tipping point that makes him double check the lock and shift so he can unbutton his shorts. 

God she’d barely said anything and he was half-hard. “Yeah?” 

“I-It’s not enough. I-I can’t--”

“Tell me what you’re doing, babe.” The words slip out unbidden, but he doesn’t have the will to stop them. The barely audible hitch in her breath is hardly motivation to try to, either. She’s silent again for a few beats before she says anything else.

“I got my shorts off and I was trying to do what you said, but it’s not enough.”

“Underwear off or on?” He has no idea if he’s asking for his imagination or for clarification.

“O-on,” she whispers.

“Take them off.” It comes out like a growl but he can hear her shifting again, following orders. 

“I did.”

“Okay.” Biggs let his eyes slip shut, blocking everything else out but the sound of her breathing through the door, the smell of her heat, his own growing arousal. “Touch yourself again, but nothing else.”

“But--”

“ _Bunny_. Nothing else.” Silence fell again, but he swore if he focused he could hear the sound of her breath hitching as her fingers slid between her folds, her heat meaning she was probably already wet. Huffing, he mirrored her, just like they had in the bathroom the night before, his own hand wandering across his length beneath his boxers.

“Tell me how it feels,” he managed and this time he knew he wasn’t imagining the whimper that escaped her.

“E-everything’s so w--” Her words cut off as she brushed her slit again and a strangled sound came out. “Wet. It feels like I’m full but empty at the same time.”

“It’s the heat,” he grunted as he shoved his boxers out of the way. ”Do you think you could finger yourself yet, babe?”

“I- _hnnn-_ I think s-so?” He tried to focus past the obvious whimper in her words and barely managed.

“Just one then.” 

“Just—?!”

“You heard me.” [FN] made a whining sound, but it was cut off as she obeyed, and gasped instead. 

“Can I move?” The ease with which she fell into taking his directions was dizzying.

“Yeah,” he managed. For a few moments there was nothing but their breathing as he stroked himself and she pumped her finger in and out. Her breathing was picking up again, and he knew before she said it that she was going to ask for--

“More. Please.”

“Go ahead, babe,” he groaned, clutching at the mental image of being with her on the other side of the door, being the one to slide his fingers into her and watch her ride them. Feeling her whimpering and gasping against his neck as he moved his hand-- “ _Faster_.”

She listened, and this time didn’t hold back the moan that fell from her lips. Biggs kept pace with her, feeling the imaginary knot below his stomach tightening as she started babbling expletives and pleas alike. They were beginning to sound less and less like words, just a series of obscene sounds that made his mind foggy and his own end draw closer by the second.

“Have you touched your clit yet, baby?” She managed a sound of denial. “Damn, you’re such a good girl. Do you want to?”

“Please,” she managed after a few breathless stutters. There was a series of faint wet, lewd sounds that let him know she hadn’t stopped moving either. “I’m so close, Biggs.”

“Jesus,” he cursed under his breath. For a brief moment his brain granted enough sanity to wonder if he should even do this, but the tension of his own impending climax and the maddening sounds of her chasing release made the choice for him. Before he could let rational thought cloud him further, he growled, “Then let me hear you cum.”

The desperate sound she made was heaven sent and a curse simultaneously. He would never be able to unhear it when they got back from Costa del Sol. Neither would he forget the way her breathing began to speed up again, turning into quick gasps and stutters before she let out one final drawn out cry. Hearing it drew the earlier picture of his hand between her legs, watching her body lock up as she cried out and clamped down on his fingers into crystal clear detail, and before he realized it, he’d climaxed with her.

Ragged breathing was all that filled the air for a few long moments, both of them shaking stars from their eyes and trying to gather their thoughts. When the high began to wear off he could hear her start to shuffle around in the bathroom again, probably to put her clothes back on. Looking down, Biggs cursed and cast his eyes around the room for a towel or something he could use. Luckily, he’d thrown his on his bag earlier that day, and snatched it.

Cleaned up, he moved back to the bathroom door and knocked quietly. The sound of running water stopped, and he waited but heard nothing else. Bracing himself, he cleared his throat.

“You okay?”

“Better, yeah,” she finally said, though her voice was still a bit shaky. The door opened just a crack and she peeked out at him. He had to inhale sharply to hold his breath against the dizzying array of smells that hit him from inside, whispering to him to make good on his earlier fantasy. 

The expression on his face had to be just a bit too tense but he couldn’t help it. He had to get out of here. “Good. Tifa said she can get you fixed up with something to help until we head back. I’ll um… ride with Wedge and you can go with her or something and—“ A small hand wrapped around his wrist and when he looked at her again, her lip was between her teeth and she wasn’t looking at him.

“We can figure that out, but um…” The still-present flush on her skin darkened. “Can you stay? Out here, just for tonight. I… I’d feel better. Knowing you’re there.”

Swallowing thickly, he knew there was no way his next words would be anything but an affirmative. Not when she said it so sweetly and his instincts had their claws sunk this deep into him. He’d do whatever she asked, if it meant staying close.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you as always for reading! Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, or you can find me on Twitter @saltedearthsch!


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